Vicissitudes
by BurningSilence
Summary: A young Breton’s journey as she tries to carry out the Emperor's last wishes while becoming involved with the Dark Brotherhood. Rated for violence, and possible romantic entanglements.
1. The Hooded Man

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **R (I'll let everyone know if it goes up)

**Disclaimer: **No, it's not mine. I'd sell my kidney to own _any_ of the games in the Elder Scrolls series. They belong to the talented people at Bethesda. Obviously, the only character who belongs to me is Felicienne, and anyone else who doesn't seem at all familiar.

**Summary:** Chronicles a young Breton's journey through at least two of the quest lines in Oblivion (the main quest, and Dark Brotherhood) after the completion of the Shivering Isles quest line. Also, possible romance. Just wanted to give everyone a head's up.

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Chapter I: The Hooded Man

Felicienne Sauveterre had already decided she had had a strange month. Possibly the strangest she'd ever had. No, it was definitely the strangest…no 'possibly' about that.

She had woken up in the Imperial Prison with out any recollection of how she came to be there, (she suspected there was more than just a nasty bump on the head at fault for that,) then was verbally abused by some aggravating Dunmer (call _her _a stuck up harlot, will he?), then some how became caught up in trying to protect the late Emperor Uriel Septim VII (while trying to escape, of course), and, as the Emperor lay dying, she was entrusted to deliver the Amulet of Kings to a man named Jauffre in Chorrol, and find the Emperor's son.

And then it became complicated.

Of course, as she was making her way towards Chorrol (and by the Nine, her head still felt a bit fuzzy), she made a wrong turn. Or rather, she _didn't make a turn at all_. She made her way to the Red Ring Road, followed it, _then completely missed the Black Road_! Had she taken the Black Road, she would have made it to Weynon Priory within a couple days and this whole business could have been done with by now.

But no, not Felicienne, who decided she didn't need to ask directions, even though she'd only been in Cyrodiil for a few days before this mess began. Whose stubbornness and pride made sure she wound up in _Bravil_ of all places. Bravil, where she heard rumours of a strange door that had opened in the Niben Bay. And, of course, hearing these rumours lit a spark of interest in her curious little mind.

So what did she do?

She _went_!

She swam her self over to the tiny island that held the doorway, and found herself becoming a 'champion' for a Daedric Prince.

Wonderful.

As she ran through Sheogorath's little 'gambit' as she had liked to call it, she had met the most _curious_ man who had asked her to do him a tiny, little favour. Hirrus Clutumnus had wanted her to kill him.

Yeah, that had surprised her too.

Thankfully, all of that had been taken care of, and she was now the Madgod of the Shivering Isles. Not that that had been her plan, she had just assumed she'd be stopping the Greymarch and Sheogorath would continue on ruling his Realm. But things could never work out that simply, now could they?

However, with all of that insanity going on, she hadn't taken the time to…_appreciate_ the ramifications of Hirrus Clutumnus' request…and her fulfilling of it.

Oh, she hadn't been able to help it, he looked so _miserable_, and looking at him had conjured up images of a long forgotten uncle and how deep _his_ melancholy had gone.

She wasn't able to say no to him.

So she _ever so gently_ nudged him off a balcony and granted him his peace. Then she grabbed his key and took her reward from his house. She still had the letter he had written, and had actually cried while reading it. He had so reminded her of her mother's brother…

She sighed as she settled in her bed for the night at the Lonely Suitor's Lodge, reading that day's edition of the Black Horse Courier. She checked the date and her eyes widened.

"Oh for pity's sake," she muttered. "I can't believe it's already the 30th of Heartfire, and I still haven't delivered that damn amulet."

She put the paper away and just stared at the ceiling.

"I should have just stayed in High Rock," she murmured as she felt sleep begin to engulf her.

* * *

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer," a smooth voice remarked.

At that, Felicienne's eyes snapped open as she jumped straight out of her bed.

"That's good," the voice's carrier continued, as if coming into people's bedroom in the middle of the night were _normal._ "You'll need a clear conscience for what I'm about to propose."

"Who are you? Explain yourself!" she exclaimed, while trying to discreetly reach for her sword, Duskfang.

The hooded man just smiled indulgently (and she though a mite condescendingly), "In due time, dear child, in due time." She bristled at being called 'child'. Damn it, she was nineteen years old, she was an adult!

"First, an introduction: I am Lucien Lachance, Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood, and you," he paused, and continued, "You are a cold-blooded killer capable of taking a life with out mercy or remorse. The Night Mother has been watching, and she is most pleased."

Felicienne was a little confused, drowsy and confused, and it must have shown on her face, because Lucien (_"That's Mr. Lachance!"_ her mother's voice screamed at her) elaborated.

"And so, here I am. I come to you with an offering. An opportunity…to join our rather unique family."

She finally was able to regain her composure as he was speaking, well, enough to remember her mother's propriety lessons, "Please continue, Mr. Lachance."

"I find you etiquette refreshing," at this, his tone became less jovial and his face serious. "Now please, listen carefully. On the Green Road, to the north of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. Kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete."

Suddenly, his countenance lightened as he continued on in a more cheerful tone, "Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family."

As she thought about this, she realized that her killing that poor bloke in Crucible had set all this in motion, but that had been a mercy killing, nothing cold-blooded. She certainly had not relished in Hirrus' demise.

"But, I'm no murderer…" she murmured, more to herself than Lucien.

At this, the man seemed genuinely surprised, "No? The Night Mother seems to think so."

He into a satchel that was at his waist, and began to pull an object out, with Felicienne keeping her eyes trained on him, just to make sure he wasn't going to try any 'funny business'. But all he did was pull out a dagger and presented it to her.

"However, if you change your mind, please, accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve your endeavors well."

She took the dagger from him and examined it, it really was quite beautiful. And very light, a far cry from Duskfang. She brushed a strand of her hair out of her face as she looked up to hear him speak again.

"Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we'll meet again soon," he stated almost longingly. Again, his mood changed for the more serious with a blink of an eye, "Your path is clear. Send Rufio to his death, and the Dark Brotherhood will welcome you as family."

Then he disappeared, seemingly into thin air, and soon she could no longer sense his presence.

She looked down at the blade in her hand and thought; again, 'I should have just stayed in High Rock.'

* * *

The next day, after Felicienne was able to finally get back to sleep the night before, she headed out, following the directions Mr. Lachance had given her to the Inn of Ill Omen.

'Nice name,' she thought. 'The inn keep must not have much business. I can't believe I'm doing this; I'm actually on my way to kill someone I know absolutely nothing about. I'm following directions from some peeping tom who came into my room in the middle of the night…what in Oblivion is wrong with me?'

She reached up and swept her long, black hair back into a ponytail, muttering to herself all the while.

"…must be out of my damn mind. Too much time spent in Sheogorath's--_my_—Realm…with all the other nutters over there…"

Needless to say, she received several confused and slightly frightened looks from passersby.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to figure out what reasons were compelling her to go. Well, the first, and glaringly obvious, was her damned curiosity. And the second was something she was a little bit more embarrassed to think on. She had found Mr. Lachance fascinating! That, and that she had found herself lonely since her family had perished when their home in Jehanna had been targeted by Necromancers. Her older brother had been a member of the Mages Guild and had, with out a doubt, made some enemies due to his fervent advocacy of the ban of necromancy, and was a zealous supporter of Arch Mage Traven. Their parents were so proud, and so was she, but she had worried something horrible was going to happen. And it did, and the bastards didn't even have the decency to leave their bodies alone. Felicienne had come back home from visiting a friend in Evermor only to have the corpses of her parents and brother attack her on site.

She'd almost died that day.

It was shortly after that she moved to Cyrodiil. She had wanted to get as far away from her 'home' as she possibly could. Unfortunately, she'd only been in Cyrodiil for a week before she woke up to find herself in the Imperial Prison.

"And my life continues on becoming more and more complex," she muttered. By now, the sun was already starting to set and she could see the outline of an inn. She hoped it was the right one.

As she ran the rest of the way, she noticed the sign did, in fact, read "Inn of Ill Omen".

"Thank the Nine," she sighed and stepped inside.

"Welcome to the Inn of Ill Omen, friend!" announced the cheery Nord behind the main desk…if you could call it a desk.

Nevertheless, Felicienne smiled graciously and approached him. "Do you happen to know if a man named Rufio is here?" she inquired sweetly. It couldn't hurt to butter him up some.

"Eh, Rufio, you say?" he asked. She nodded, keeping the smile on her face. He smiled back and said, "Yeah, he's here. He's an old codger, lives in the basement, or as I like to call it, Rufio's private rooms," he chuckled. "But what do I care, he pays his tab, just don't expect a warm greeting from him, he seems to like his privacy. Between you and me, I think he's hiding from something," the large man finished in a conspiratorial whisper.

'Yeah, I bet,' she thought, sardonically. "Thank you, I promise I won't keep him long," she promised.

"Just remember, if you need a room to stay in, think of the Inn of Ill Omen…and tell your friends!"

She walked to the cellar door and climbed down, wondering what this Rufio fellow did to warrant his death. She made her way to a bedroom and let herself in. As she looked at the old man lying on the bed, she couldn't help but feel like she would be doing something wrong, something unforgivable if she were to kill him. Nothing he did could have been that bad.

However, she had enough sense to know appearances were deceiving, so she shook him awake.

He bolted upright and said, "No! Get away from me! I didn't do nothing wrong!"

She contemplated this and decided to test her theory.

"Oh, but you did, Rufio," she murmured softly.

At this, his face turned ashen, "No! Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I…I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choice!" And then he bolted to the next room, leaving Felicienne feeling angry, and sick. She covered her mouth with her hand, she hadn't realized…

Then she took off after him, cornering him in the storeroom, and took her dagger and stabbed him in the back. Cowards like him didn't deserve the honour of being killed face to face. He emitted a soft, strangled scream and fell.

Felicienne wiped off her blade with Rufio's shirt and closed both of the doors before she left the cellar.

As she emerged, she heard the innkeeper say, "Were you able to talk to him?"

Panicking for a second, she responded, "Uh, no…no. I knocked on his door but no answer. Must have been sleeping. Or ignoring me." Here she let out a slightly nervous laugh, but the Nord didn't seem to notice.

"Haha, yeah, I told you he liked his privacy."

"Hmm, yes, you did. I guess I'm too stubborn sometimes," she laughed feeling a bit better, but still out of sorts. "Hey, what do you have to drink around here?"

* * *

She went to bed that night still feeling pleasantly light headed from the ale she had consumed earlier, and she was still getting over the fact she'd killed someone, and had gotten away with it. No one seemed to notice anything wrong, which was lucky for her, but not so lucky for Rufio.

'Bastard,' she thought viciously. 'Death was too good for him.'

She was still angry about what she'd learned about him, but pleased she'd been the one to mete out his punishment. A strange feeling but not a wholly unwelcome one.

She felt her eyes begin to droop, weighed down by her mixed feelings and ale, and the extremely late hour this was, she decided it was time to surrender to sleep.

* * *

She woke up suddenly, and peered out the window, noting that it was still dark. What had woken her up? She felt something…off about her room.

It wasn't long before she had her answer.

"So, the deed is done," came a, by now, familiar voice. "How do I know this? You will find the Dark Brotherhood knows a great many things. For you are now part of the family."

She looked around a bit, her eyes adjusting, and her gaze came to rest on Lucien Lachance by the doorway.

She swallowed and asked, "Now what?"

He smiled, "Now heed my words. For the slaying of Rufio was the signing of a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature. Rufio's blood, the ink. As a Speaker of the Black Hand, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given. You must now go to the city of Cheydinhal, to the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the Black Door. You will be asked a question. Answer thusly: 'Sanguine, my Brother.' You will gain entrance to the Sanctuary. Once inside, speak to Ocheeva."

His mood turned serious once again, "We must now take our leave of each other, you and I, for there is much work to be done. I'll be following…you're progress. Welcome to the family."

Then he disappeared…again. 'I'm going to have to learn that spell,' she thought. She was so tired, but she could not find it in herself to relax enough to get back to sleep.

She decided she'd just wait here until morning before she went off to Cheydinhal, and _then_ she would make her way to Chorrol, drop off the Amulet of Kings, and hopefully that would be it. Although, if a dying man's words held any credence, she may have a bit more in store for her than just a simple delivery. But she didn't want to think about that just yet.

She could see out of her window the sky turning a faint shade of pink at the horizon, she guessed that it had been later than she originally thought when she first woke up. She got out of bed, packed her belongings up, and headed out. She had a feeling it would be a long day.

* * *

She made her way to Cheydinhal in a bit of a daze. She was exhausted, hungry, and just frustrated. Seemed like today of all days all the bandits wanted to come out, just to hassle her. She showed them though, didn't even need a sword. They're handy things, destruction spells, really.

She stopped in front of the eastern get to Cheydinhal and stretched her arms over her head and popped her neck, she was so tired, and so sore. She couldn't wait to find a place to crash tonight.

'Alright, abandoned house, I have to find an abandoned house,' she kept thinking as she took in the décor of the city. 'It is very lovely here,' she mused. 'Maybe, after all of this is done, I'll move here, on a more permanent basis.' Or maybe she'd just say to Oblivion with it all and run away to New Sheoth and never come back. Although, as she thought it, she knew she wouldn't, she was a glutton for punishment.

As she continued her internal dialogue, her gaze came upon an old, boarded up house. She assumed that that must have been the house Mr. Lachance had spoken of. She made her way over to it quietly, and thank the Divine she had the cover of darkness on her side. Once she got there, she tried the door handle and noted with dismay, it was locked.

Picking locks was not her forte.

So she pulled out the ten or so lock picks she'd accumulated throughout the Shivering Isles, (as well as prison), and began to attempt to open the door. To her surprise (and relief) it only took two lock picks before she worked the door open.

"What a dive," she mumbled as she looked around. "It looks like whoever was here before left in a hurry," hmm, she wondered why.

She noticed the door to the basement and made her way through it only to find the basement had an eerie red glow coming from the other side. Felicienne followed the glow until she found herself in front of a door with a red hand at the top, and a picture of a woman with five children. She reached for the doorknob when a hissing voice came out of nowhere and asked, "What…is the colour…of night?"

She looked around at first, a little startled, then cleared her throat and answered: "S-sanguine, my brother…"

The door swung open and the same voice replied, "Welcome…home."

She walked through the door and into what appeared to be the main room. Immediately, an Argonian woman came up to her and smiled.

"Welcome, dear sister, welcome! It's always a pleasure to welcome another Dark Sister into the family. Surely the Night Mother smiles upon her trusted daughters! I'm Ocheeva, mistress of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you. I welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! You stand now in our Sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security, whenever the need arises."

Felicienne wouldn't admit it, but it made her a mite uneasy when she found out Mr. Lachance—or rather, _Lucien_—had told Ocheeva 'all about her', just how long had that man been following her?

Ocheeva went on, oblivious to the younger girl's musings, "When you're ready for work, speak to Vicente Valtieri. He handles all assignments for new family members. But before you go, please accept this gift from your new family. A unique set of armour, lighter than normal leather, and black as the Void."

Felicienne accepted the armour and shroud, admiring the work that had obviously gone into the garments, she had to admit, she was a little excited to try it on and see how it fit. Ocheeva continued, smiling softly at their newest sister, "Now, I've kept you long enough, Vicente is waiting. You'll find him in his quarters. Go now, my child, and may Sithis go with you."

Felicienne looked up at Ocheeva and asked, "May I ask you something? Or rather, some_things_? I still feel as if I am mostly in the dark of most of what's happening…"

"Of course you may, child. Feel free to ask whatever you are comfortable with."

The young Breton smiled gratefully at the Sanctuary mistress, "I was wondering, what do you know of Lucien Lachance?"

The Argonian woman looked slightly surprised, but not unprepared for the question, "Lucien isn't here very often, his duties for the Black Hand keep him very busy, so I oversee this Sanctuary and report to him."

Felicienne seemed to take this into account and nodded, and Ocheeva went on to say, "Feel free to talk to your other family members, I'm sure everyone will make you feel welcome."

"Thank you, Ms. Ocheeva," Felicienne said, brushing some fly-away's that had fallen into her line of sight.

"Just call me Ocheeva, dear. I'm not that old," the Argonian said, laughing.

"Alright," the younger said, embarrassed.

Felicienne spotted a blonde woman who appeared to be roughly her age, probably a bit older, oh, and she looked like a Breton! It'd be nice to talk to someone from her home province.

"Hello, miss," the black haired girl murmured.

"Oh, welcome, dearest sister! My name's Antoinetta Marie, and if you need _anything_ don't hesitate to ask!" the blonde said, cheerfully.

"What do you know about Lucien?" Felicienne inquired. She noticed as she asked the question, Antoinetta's eyes took on a bit of a far away look, but at the same time, appeared more guarded.

"I will always think of Lucien Lachance as my savior. When he found me, I was living in a gutter, an inch away from death. I owe him _everything_," the woman replied, ardently.

Felicienne blinked, her response was a bit more fervent than she expected. However, she felt like Antoinetta was trying to tell her something. She just didn't know what. But the way the blonde stared at her was unnerving.

"Oh," she murmured. She bit her lip, trying to think of something else to say. "Is there anything else I should know?"

At this, Antoinetta smiled, then leaned in closer to her and winked, "Don't tell anyone else, but someday, I'm going to have Ocheeva's position. Lucien Lachance knows real talent when he sees it."

Felicienne smiled, "I'm sure he does. I guess I should head to Mr. Valtieri, now. I hope to speak with you again, Antoinetta."

The blonde beamed, "Likewise, be seeing you."

The darker of the two made her way down the long corridor to, what she was assuming, was Vicente's quarters. While looking around, she caught the eye of a Khajiit who just sneered at her. She arched an eyebrow and went on her way. She'd admit it, she was nervous. She had no idea what to expect, so far, it seemed as if everyone was nice enough. As she made her way farther down the Sanctuary, she saw the last room at the end of the hallway.

'That must be Mr. Valtieri's quarters,' she thought with relief. She could get this over with now.

She knocked tentatively on the heavy door in front of her, hoping for a quick response.

"Enter," a soft voice replied.

She stepped through the threshold, and noticed with quite a start, that the man inside was a vampire.

"H-hello," Felicienne greeted. The man, (who she assumed was Vicente), got up from his table and shook her hand once.

"Warmest greetings to you, I trust you've spoken with Ocheeva, already? I am Vicente Valtieri, I'll be providing your contracts until you are a little more…established here."

She could do nothing but nod her head as she listened to him speak. Almost as if reading her mind, he entreated, "Please, do not let my appearance…unnerve you. The needs and Tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my needs as a vampire. Now, if you're ready to get to work, I can provide you with your first contract."

Again, she only nodded, still trying to get her vocal chords to work properly.

He just smiled kindly and continued, "I'm not sure how you feel about pirates, but you'll have to kill one. A captain, on his ship, surrounded by his crew. Interested?"

She cleared her throat, "Yes, I'll accept this contract."

"Excellent, here is what you have to do…"

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A/N:

Alright, so that's it for chapter one! I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm already starting on chapter two. And I did use some dialogue from the actual game. It helps the story flow more naturally (and helps me keep up the correct linguistics of the setting). And I really like the script to Oblivion.

An additional note, for those who are interested in etymology, Felicienne Sauveterre's name means: fortunate/successful safe haven. I also consulted www. uesp. net /wiki/Oblivion:Oblivion for further information (i.e.: maps, which race comes from where etc.) As well as the information that while Lucien Lachance has a Breton name, he is, in fact, an Imperial (and I'd been so sure throughout the game he'd been a Breton).


	2. The Long Road

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author:** BurningSilence

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it, Bethesda does. I barely own the plot, but I do own anyone in this story who doesn't seem familiar.

**Summary:** see chapter one.

This chapter is also dedicated to dreamysherry, mostly because she gave me that very special first review. But also because her stories are made of win.

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Chapter II:

**The Long Road**

'Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!' Felicienne cursed in her mind as she rushed to make her way to the back door out of the captain's cabin. It was only a matter of time until the crew managed to get the door open. She'd been able to sneak past all of them, kill the captain, and then somehow, they'd over heard the 'commotion' in his room. So she did the only logical one would do if they were out numbered and taken by surprise.

She bolted.

She flung the door open, jumped into the harbour, and swam for all she was worth. It was lucky she found that talisman with the water breathing charm in Xedilian, at least she could stay under the water and, hopefully, remain hidden.

By the time she made it back to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, she was sure she would come down with a cold. She was still very wet, it was dark and cold, and she couldn't stop shivering.

And to top it off, it was raining.

She just wanted change into some dry clothes, and get some sleep. She immediately made her way to Vicente's chambers to report to him she'd finished the contract.

"So, the pirate has been eliminated. Excellent. No one will mourn him. And as promised, here is your reward," he said as he handed her a ring. "Now, get some rest, you look like you may need it."

Immediately, she went to the living quarters and changed out of her wet armour and into a set of dry cloth clothing, and readied herself for bed. It was bad enough that she was cold already; it made it worse that their Sanctuary was underground, where it just happened to be even colder.

She'd decided she'd sleep here during the morning, and then go on her way to Chorrol in the afternoon. If nothing handicapped her, she should be in Chorrol by late evening. She pulled out her bookand settled down for the time being, hoping to drift off to sleep.

"Oh, hello dearest Sister! I see you're back from your contract," announced Antoinetta's cheerful voice.

Felicienne looked up and smiled, "Yes, I'm just glad everything went according to plan. Things just became a little dicey when the captain's crew tried to enter the room while I was still there. But no harm done, well, to me anyway. The captain may feel differently."

Antoinetta laughed, "That is good to hear, sister!" She happened to glance at the book the younger girl was reading, and furrowed her brows, "_Azura and the Box?_"

Felicienne blushed and replied, "Yeah, I know. It's a little childish." Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, "At least it isn't _The Lusty Argonian Maid_."

The blonde woman just laughed as she got into her own bed and blew out her candle.

* * *

Felicienne sighed as she continued on the Red Ring Road; she'd started out later than she'd wanted to. Now, by the time she'd get to the Chorrol, it'd probably be around midnight, so she'd probably need to spend the rest of the night somewhere.

"But, maybe I'll just swing by Weynon Priory to see if anyone is still awake, first," she mused aloud to herself.

As she thought about it, it was interesting what, exactly, compelled her to go through with this little errand. Although she wasn't an unkind person, Felicienne rarely took up 'expeditions' such as this, merely out of the kindness of her heart. Usually, her reasons were usually very selfish; either she would gain something out of it, or it was mere curiosity. However, this was different. This was the _Emperor_ for divinity's sake! She was a nobody, a simple a Breton who'd run away from her home and her problems. And yet he'd spared her life from his guards and allowed her to escape her fate in the Imperial Prison.

And, she had to admit, she felt a tad guilty for his death. Even though he, himself, had told her that he was going to die, and that he'd accepted that, she still felt she should have been more on guard, at least. How could that assassin have snuck up right behind them? The least she could do was honour Emperor Uriel's last wishes.

'Although,' she cringed, 'It's been more than a month since that happened. It's already the third of Frostfall.'

Indeed, the weather was turning more unpleasant, and the night's were colder. She enjoyed the change, but it didn't seem the other citizens enjoyed it as much as she. Coming from High Rock, she was used to much colder weather.

That didn't mean she'd packed for it, considering she'd left in the middle of Last Seed, and expected warm weather. Maybe while she was in Chorrol, she'd pick up some warmer clothes.

'I need to buy a horse,' she thought as her feet began to ache. She stopped at a grassy knoll that looked to be particularly inviting, and sat down to rub her feet. She didn't have any way to check the time, but she guessed that it must have been around eleven o'clock. Maybe even later. She sighed, she probably wouldn't be able to get a hold of anyone this time of night; it would have to wait until morning.

Felicienne got back up on her feet and continued her trek, eyes widening in excitement as she saw she was coming up on the Black Road, because she sure as _hell_ wouldn't miss it this time! She decided to cut down on time, she run. And she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. As she came up to Fort Ash, a Khajiit dressed in leather armour jumped out of his hiding place.

"You _must_ be kidding," she mumbled, to no one in particular, feeling her temper spike.

"I can assure you, _girl_, this is no joke. Now, your money or your life," snarled the highwayman.

She sneered, "Take it from me, if you can, you tatty housecat!"

He glared at her and said, "Fine, that's how I like it anyway," and then brandished a, rather large, mace.

Felicienne flung a fireball at the highwayman before she could even think about it, and he collapsed dead at her feet.

She looked down, surprised, "Well, that didn't take long. I'm actually a little disappointed."

She leant down to see if he anything valuable on his person, then withdrew, dissatisfied.

"You obviously weren't a very successful at this, were you? You've no gold on you!"

As she looked towards the western entrance of the fort, she could faintly see the outline of Chorrol, and before it, Weynon Priory. 'Finally,' she thought with a sigh. She spied a little makeshift campsite across from her in the fort and decided she'd just sleep there for a few hours.

"After all," she said, looking over and her recently deceased 'friend'. "It's not like you're going to be using it anytime soon."

She curled up on the bedroll and let her eyes drift shut, trying to stay warm.

* * *

"Uhhhmm, I hate the sun…" Felicienne grumbled as she tried to shield her eyes from the harsh morning light. "Oh, it's morning!" she exclaimed, trying to rub the sleep from her blue eyes. "I guess that means I better get to the Priory," she muttered to herself. She pulled the Amulet of Kings out of her pack to look at it one last time. "Well," she began, "It's been a fun run, and I suppose I'm going to miss carting you around everywhere, but it's time for you to go to the one you belong to." Then she stopped herself.

'What in Oblivion am I doing?' she thought to herself. 'I'm talking to a pendant, for pity's sake!' With that, she shook herself off, and made her way out of the fort entrance.

She decided she may as well run the rest of the way, best to get this entire fiasco over with. To keep herself, slightly, entertained, she thought to make a game of it. So she began trying to see how much faster she could go by jumping from boulder to boulder.

After awhile, she decided that wasn't such a good idea, she was tiring herself out too much. "I wish I had some company," she mumbled. "That'd make this whole thing go quite a bit faster."

She came up to a large building that looked like a chapel, and let herself inside. 'This must be it,' she thought, looking around. She cleared her throat and asked, "Excuse me, do you know where Jauffre is?"

An older man looked up from the altar in the back and smiled, "Yes, he's in the Weynon house. Do you have business with him?" he inquired.

"Yes, actually, I do. It's about a…friend of his," she replied.

The Prior (or at least, she assumed he was the Prior), looked skeptical, but let the issue be. "Well, alright then. He'll probably be up the stairs reading."

"Thank you, sir," she smiled as she let herself out. She ran over to the Weynon house and opened the door, hoping someone was in. She poked her head inside, but didn't see anyone, so she decided to head upstairs like the Prior instructed her to.

She looked around and saw another man at a desk, reading something rather intently.

"Excuse me," she murmured. "Are you Jauffre?"

He looked up at her with a sour expression and replied waspishly, "I _am_ Brother Jauffre, what do you want?"

Her back straightened in response to his rudeness. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she told him, "The Emperor sent me to find you."

The old man's eyebrows rose and he responded, obviously skeptical, "The Emperor? Do you know something of his death?"

She swallowed heavily, aware of how this appeared, "I was there when he died…"

"You'd better explain yourself. Now," he bit out.

"He gave me the Amulet of Kings," she stated, now a bit more anxious as she twisted the material of her shirt.

"You brought me the Amulet of Kings? That cannot be. Let me see it," he assessed.

Felicienne reached into her pack and handed over the piece of jewelry, glad to finally have this over with.

Jauffre grabbed, (rather rudely, she thought), and examined it carefully, turning it every which way before he exclaimed, "By the Nine! This _is_ the Amulet of Kings!"

She was sure the look she gave him said, 'I told you so.'

Then he looked at her sharply and asked, "Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?"

"I was in the prison when the Emperor's family was attacked. I think there was some sort of mix up with the guards and they placed me in the cell the escape route was located. After the Emperor and his guards left through the tunnel I—I followed. I wanted to get out. When I caught up with them, his guards thought I might have been involved with the assassinations, and they wanted to kill me! But, Emperor Uriel stopped them, he saved me. They let me follow the rest of the way, but then we were caught at a dead end…it was a trap. They had me stay with the Emperor while they looked for another way out, but we were ambushed. While I was trying to fight off an assassin who had charged at us, another one had apparently been waiting behind the Emperor in a hidden alcove…and he killed him. I didn't have time to stop him. But, before he…passed on, he told me take this amulet," she gestured towards it, "to you, and that you were the only one who knew where to find his last heir. That I needed to stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal minion…And then he said something very…unnerving, I suppose would be the best way to say it." Felicienne stopped, looking thoughtful.

Jauffre indicated for her to go on, looking mystified.

She looked down, pensive and continued, "'Close shut the jaws of Oblivion.'"

Jauffre seemed to think on all that she said, but still managed to look quite skeptical. And he let her know it as well, "As unlikely as your story sounds, I do believe you. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings."

Felicienne bit her lip, still thinking about that one phrase that filled her with a sense of foreboding. She looked up at Jauffre and asked, "What do you think he meant, 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion'?"

He rubbed his chin, contemplating her question and shook his head, "His meaning is unclear to me as well. The Emperor seemed to perceive some threat from the demonic world of Oblivion. The Prince of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon, is one of the lords of Oblivion."

Jauffre adopted a confused countenance as he said he next words, "But the mortal world is protected from daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers."

The dark haired girl shook her head, now frustrated more than anything at this point, "Well, then how can Oblivion threaten us?" She didn't think it'd be prudent to let Jauffre know she'd had her fair share of…_experience_…with Daedric princes. Even though he was just the crazy sort…maybe not harmless, but Sheogorath obviously didn't favour the meaningless sort of destruction Mehrunes Dagon did. That _was_ why he'd wanted a Champion after all, wasn't it?

Jauffre then cracked a small smile at her and replied, "I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation. The Amulet of Kings is ancient. St. Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power."

Felicienne blushed; embarrassed that she did not know much about the history of her own country, especially about something as important as the Amulet of Kings. She should have at least read up on the damned thing!

Jauffre continued, oblivious to her inner denunciation, "When a new Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. However, with the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark for the first time in centuries. It is conceivable that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of."

Felicienne nodded, then remembered something she'd let slip her mind before, "The Emperor mentioned something about finding his son…" she trailed off.

Jauffre seemed to understand explained, "I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as captain of Uriel's bodyguards, the Blades." At the brunette's look of exasperation, he smiled and decided to get to the point. "One night Uriel called me into his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. Every once in a while he would ask after the child's progress." Jauffre chuckled a bit and continued, "Now it seems this illegitimate son is the to the Septim throne. If he yet lives."

Jauffre's face darkened at that last thought. Felicienne was just now beginning to understand the gravity of the situation they were now in. She wouldn't just be able to pass off this piece of jewelry and be on her merry way. This would effect everyone's lives. She sighed and looked directly into the monk's eyes while she inquired, "Where can I find him?"

He smiled softly and answered, "His name is Martin; he serves as a priest of Akatosh in the city of Kvatch, south of here. You must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence he is in terrible danger. And…let me know if you need anything. I have limited resources, but I will help you in anyway I can."

Felicienne smiled, and shook her head 'no', "Thank you, but I'll be alright. I'm sure I have everything I'll need." She furrowed her brows and asked, "What about the Amulet?"

"It will be safest here with me, when you return with Martin, we'll figure out our next move."

She nodded in the affirmative, and decided it'd be best to get started now, before any other distractions made themselves present. And as she continued on the train of thought, she remembered she needed warmer clothing. She cursed under her breath, she wondered if she could make it a couple more nights with out heavier clothing. She'd briefly entertained the idea of wearing her shrouded armour, but discarded that thought. That would cause…unnecessary attention. It looked like she'd need to stop in town after all.

When she arrived within the city wall, she asked a guard for directions and, while his manner did seem a bit…surly, he directed her to Northern Goods and Trade and then there was Fire and Steel if she wanted armour. She made sure to head off to Fire and Steel, after all, she just wanted some leather armour. You know, the kind that wouldn't make people suspicious.

Fortunately, after buying her armour, and repairing her weapons, not too much time had passed, and the blacksmith at the shop was kind enough to let her use a back room to change it, so she didn't have to scurry around to find a place to maintain her modesty. She made sure she tipped the woman for her trouble.

Looking at her map, Kvatch was a way off, but if she left now, she could make it to Skingrad, stay there for the night, then continue on to Kvatch first thing the next morning, since that would be a _much_ shorter trip.

* * *

On a whole, her trip to Skingrad was uneventful. Just a couple bandits, a few wolves here and there, it wasn't anything she couldn't manage. However, it was her time in Skingrad that proved to be more interesting. If it wasn't a paranoid Bosmer asking to meet her behind the chapel after midnight, (like she was stupid enough to do that) it was the rough treatment of one of the Orc innkeepers, (Mog gra-Mogakh her name was). Then there was a member of the City Watch coming to her room to inform her to 'stay away from Glarthir', the paranoid Bosmer. Apparently he was crazy, not dangerous allegedly, but that could always change.

Needless to say, she wasn't that upset about having to leave Skingrad. She had woken up just at daybreak to ensure she had plenty of time to get there. Not that she had to worry about the chapel closing, but it wasn't like she wanted to interrupt the poor priests sleep. She wasn't like _some_ people, particularly a man who wore black and had dark eyes, who found it completely normal to wake someone up in the middle of the night, even though if he'd been _watching_ her, he'd known she'd had a difficult few days, and would've appreciated the sleep.

She sighed and rolled her eyes at herself, 'No use getting worked up over it, besides, you accepted his offer.' She'd always had an ability to hold a grudge, anyway. She was sure after awhile she'd warm up to Mr. Lachance—_Lucien_, she corrected herself—she already found him interesting. Although, she laughed, she felt Antoinetta was warmed up to him enough for the both of them. After her first encounter with the blonde Breton, she was sure Antoinetta was sweet on him. It was adorable, really.

"I'll always look at Lucien Lachance as my savior," she said wistfully, trying to imitate Antoinetta, as she clasped her hands to her chest. She couldn't say anymore because she was had started giggling too hard. She didn't mean to poke fun at Antoinetta, she loved her dearly, but she'd always found 'starry-eyed' women to be a bit…strange. Perhaps that was just because she'd never been 'boy-crazy' as her mother called it. She had a feeling that was a relief to her father.

She noticed it was getting darker a bit earlier than she thought it would have as she started climbing the hill to get to the actual town of Kvatch. She glanced up at the sky and noticed what looked like large plumes of smoke. As she continued her climb, she noticed a terrified Altmer running from the city. At first, Felicienne assumed he was running from the guard, or some such, until he approached her.

"Run!" He screamed, "Run while there's still time!"

"Time?" she asked, confused.

"The Guard still holds the road, but it's only a matter of time before they're overwhelmed! We need to run!" he cried.

A feeling of apprehension came over Felicienne as she asked her next question, "Run from what?"

At this, he looked shocked, "God's blood, you don't know, do you? Daedra overran Kvatch last night. There were glowing portals outside the city walls, gates to Oblivion itself!" He began to speak distantly, as if whatever happened in Kvatch had happened to someone else, "There was a huge creature, like something out of your worst nightmare…it came right over the walls…blasting fire! They swarmed around it…killing…"

Felicienne felt her heart drop to her knees and swallowed thickly before continuing, "The whole city can't be destroyed…"

"Go see for yourself! The whole city is a smoking ruin; we're all that's left! Everyone else is _dead_!"

"How did you escape?

"It was Savlian Matius…some of the other guards helped some of us escape. They cut their way out, right through the city gates. He says they can hold the road…but no…No, I don't believe it! If you'd seen it, you'd know!" and he pushed her out of the way and began running again. She just watched him go, trying to figure out what to do next.

If there was a small encampment up ahead, maybe one of them would know what happened to Martin, maybe he escaped. So, with that thought, she continued marching up the hill, hoping to find the small refugee camp the guards would've made for the survivors.

What she came across was maybe ten people…that was _all_ that survived? The first person she ran into was a Bosmer man who looked rather worse for wear, like he'd been out all night.

"Excuse me?" she asked. "I'm so sorry for what has happened to you, and I know this is a difficult time, but I need to know something. Where is Brother Martin?"

The Bosmer turned tired eyes onto her and responded, "The priest? I…I don't think he made it out of the city…"

She must have looked as despondent as she felt at that answer, because he was quick to continue on, "but Savlian Matius should know more. He's up the road, trying to hold back the daedra."

"Thank you," she murmured, and began to trudge up the road, once again. As she continued, she'd noticed the sky beginning to turn a red hue and the faint hum usually associated with a portal, and she feared the worst. When she got up to what looked like a small militia she saw them struggling with a scamp, it looked as though they killed off the other daedra so far.

She ran up and fired off a frostball*, hoping that would at least help, although if she were honest, her frost spells left a bit to be desired.

A stern looking Imperial with a short military hairstyle, who she assumed was Matius, came up to her while the other soldiers continued to hack and slice at the creature and told her to stand back, that it wasn't safe.

"This is no place for you; get back to the encampment at once!"

"What happened here?" she questioned.

"We lost the damned city, that's what happened!" he snarled, then in a calmer tone, "It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed…we couldn't even get everyone out. There are still people trapped in there! Some made it to the Chapel but others were just run down in the streets. The Count and his men are still holed up in the castle. And now we can't even get back into the city to help them, with that damn Gate blocking the way!"

Felicienne frowned and fought an oncoming wave of nausea long enough to ask, "What will you do now?"

"The only thing we can do. We'll try to hold our ground, if we can't hold this barricade; those beasts will march right down and overrun the encampment! I have to try to few civilians that are left…it's all I can do now."

"Do you know what happened to Brother Martin?" she asked, dreading the answer.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before he replied, "The priest? Last I saw him, he was leading a group of people towards the Chapel of Akatosh. If he's lucky, he's trapped in there with the rest of them, at least safe for the moment. If he's not…" he let his voice trail off.

The girl bit her lip, angry at herself now…if she hadn't gotten distracted she would have gotten here before any of this happened. She let her flights of fancy cloud her judgment and divert her priorities…and now the only remaining member of the Septim line may be dead. And it would be her fault. She'd let down the first person in Cyrodiil who'd been kind to her; he'd kept her alive, allowed her to escape, and trusted her; a complete stranger to find his only living son. He hadn't just been the Emperor; he'd been an old man, a father, wanting to protect the last of his family and his country. She bit her lip more harshly to stifle the tears of frustration she felt stinging behind her eyes and clenched her fists so hard she heard them crack.

She looked up at the Captain and swallowed the lump in her throat before stating resolutely, "I want to help."

He appeared taken aback, "You want to help? You're kidding right?" However, whatever he saw, be it in her face or in her stance, made him regard her seriously.

"If you _are_ serious, maybe I can put you to some use…it'll likely mean you're death, though," he mused.

"I don't care!" She cried out, stubbornly.

He nodded to himself, slightly taken aback by her vehemence. "I don't know how to close this Gate, but it must be possible, because the enemy closed the once they opened during the initial attack. I sent men into the Gate to see if they could find a way to shut it. They haven't come back. If you can get in there, find out what happened to them. If they're alive, help them finish the job. If not, well…I suppose it'll be up to you."

She turned to leave towards the Gate when Matius stopped her. She looked back at him, head inclined in askance.

He stood a bit straighter and said, "Good luck. If you make it back alive, we'll be waiting for you."

She nodded once, keeping her jaw clenched. She would not show any fear now; this was something she _had_ to do, something she was _supposed _to do. She would close the gate so these people could rebuild what was left of their lives. And maybe, just maybe, Martin Septim was still alive.

* * *

* This line seems to be an oxymoron, doesn't it?

**A/N:** Alright, so that's it for chapter two. I used actual lines from the game again, but you all probably knew that anyway^_^. Reviews would be lovely, just no flames. They accomplish nothing. However, constructive criticism is always welcome. And I always welcome ideas (especially for the title -_-). If there are any mistakes, they're all mine. I beta my own material, so I'm bound to miss some things. But I do try my best. Thank you for reading.


	3. The Hidden Heir

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author:** BurningSilence

**Disclaimer:** I tell you, my KIDNEY for the rights to the Elder Scrolls! I may even throw in half my liver. But, alas, I don't think Bethesda has any needs for my organs *sigh*.

**Summary: **refer to Chapter One

**

* * *

**

Chapter III:

The Hidden Heir

The first thing she noticed was the heat; the agonizing, excruciating, searing heat. The next thing she noticed? It was how stupid she was for wearing _leather_.

As Felicienne took a deep breath, trying to acclimate herself to her surroundings, the smell of burnt flesh assaulted her sinuses. She immediately went to cover the lower portion of her face as her eyes fell on the charred remains of what used to be a human.

She let out a nervous chuckle, "I wonder who did this?"

Rubbing her hand across her face, she decided to abandon her leather cuirass. She might've been leaving herself more vulnerable, but at least she wouldn't be in constant misery from the heat. Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't cast a protection spell, or a healing spell for that matter.

As soon as she slipped the leather off of her shoulders, she heard the sound of a small skirmish nearby. Her head immediately perked up, hoping that it was Matius' men. She followed the sounds best she could, until she came across one man fighting several scamps.

'I wonder where the rest of the men are…' she thought as she pulled Dawnfang out of its sheath and ran towards the fight.

It was only then she remembered that scamps were resistant to fire damage, so Dawnfang's flame enchantment would be useless.

'No matter,' she thought, resolutely. 'That just means it'll take a bit longer to kill them.'

She swung the heavy blade at one of the scamps that was preparing to discharge a fireball at the soldier and brought it down across its back, causing it to screech in pain and redirect the fireball towards her. She dodged it by a hair and slid the blade right through the scamp's stomach, ending its life. Felicienne noticed that there were still four more scamps and a clannfear, so she made the decision to summon one of her Mazken to take some of the pressure off of the other soldier.*

When the daedra that had been attacking them were dead, and her Mazken left, the soldier ran up to her, looking rather relieved.

"Thank the Nine," he panted. "I had thought to never see another friendly face…"

His relief soon disappeared as horror spread over his haggard features while he relayed what had happened while he and the other guards had been here. At first, he seemed to have a difficult time articulating what exactly took place; all she could get at first was, "The others…taken…to the tower!"

"It's alright," she said, as soothingly as she could manage. "What's going on?"

"The Captain sent us in here to try to close the gate. We were ambushed, trapped, and picked off! I was lucky, I managed to escape," he let out a self-deprecating laugh. "But the others…the others are strewn across that bridge." He gestured to a lava pool where a bridge led to a giant tower. As she looked closer and her eyes widened; she could see the corpses hanging upside down, all of them flayed and skinned. They had not gone gently.

"They took Menien off to the big tower! You've got to save him!" he implored. "I'm getting out of here," he informed her, looking hopeful.

She thought about it, and then nodded.

"Fine, Captain Matius needs your help anyway."

"The Captain is still holding the barricade? I thought I was the last one left alive," he stated, surprised. He smiled, "Alright, I'll try to get out of here and let the Captain know what's going on." He inclined his head towards the girl and ran towards the Gate.

She looked over at the bridge leading to the tower, and then to the war gate shutting it off and determined she'd probably have to find some other way in.

Wasn't life wonderful?

She sighed, trying to calm the rolling in her stomach. She couldn't afford to lose it now, but in all honesty, this terrified her. She didn't know what to expect, and her knowledge of Oblivion was…limited, to say the least. Her only real experience with Oblivion and daedra were the Shivering Isles; a far cry from this…nightmare. It seemed that not all Daedric Princes were created equal, nor were their Planes of Oblivion.

She kept reminding herself to stay calm, that panicking never solved anything. Did she panic when she needed to kill the Gatekeeper to meet with Sheogorath? Or when she had to kill Lady Syl and cut out her heart to make herself Duchess of Dementia? No, she hadn't, and she wouldn't panic this time either. And just like those times before, she would succeed. With this thought in mind, she continued to walk on, looking for any way to get into that damned tower.

As she walked, tense as a bowstring, she took in everything she was seeing, just in case she got lost. The last thing she wanted was to be wandering around _this_ place with out any idea where she was going. She heard a crack of thunder and heard the ground on a hill above her give way; she barely managed to evade a falling boulder that came crashing down.

She really wanted to close that Gate.

* * *

After several miles, and numerous attacks, she arrived at a smaller tower labeled 'The Blood Feast'. This tower appeared to have a bridge at the very top to what she thought looked like the large tower that Menien was imprisoned in, so she could only hope that she was closer to rescuing the guard they took prisoner and closing off the Gate.

With a deep breath, she let herself in…

…And then noticed the three scamps that were waiting for her when she arrived. Fortunately, they were just adolescents, so it wasn't that difficult to kill them. But having three of them, she still came out a little worse for wear. The light shirt she'd been wearing…well, at this point, she might as well _not_ been wearing it, there was so little of it left. Not to mention her newly acquired scorches. And a particularly nasty one on her face that made it hard to even move her mouth.

Unfortunately, she could only heal small wounds with magic, but, if she remembered correctly, she had packed a few health potions. Hopefully, that would take care of any wounds she had. She downed the vile liquid in one gulp, and grimaced.

"Why do they make anything that's supposed be good for you taste terrible?" she muttered, discarding the empty bottle.

She walked through another door into a narrow hallway, which led to a citadel of sorts, where more scamps resided. However, the dremora churl took her completely off guard as he bashed his mace into the back of her head. Her vision blurred for a moment as she felt the pain explode behind her eyes. She let out a sharp cry and almost dropped her sword. The scamp took this as an opening to send a flare her way as the dremora took to trying to smash her skull in, leaving her to try and block the blows as best she could.

She was finally able to release a couple frostballs at the scamp, killing it finally. Yet even as she tried to do the same to the dremora, he took the opening and cracked his mace across her ribs, winding her and cutting off the spell. She gripped her sword more firmly and swung it at his neck, hoping to at least slow him down. She knew she wasn't physically strong enough to even hope for a decapitation. She did, though, manage to sever his jugular and windpipe. She watched dispassionately as he sank to his knees and bled to death.

After the chaos had died down, she noticed a blood fountain and walked over to it. As disgusting as she found it, she washed her hands in it and felt the healing magic begin to take effect.

Shaking herself off, she exited the citadel and made her way through the rest of the tower and found an exit leading outside. As she opened the door, she noticed she was on the bridged she'd seen earlier, before she'd entered the tower. She walked across it carefully, _very carefully_, towards the tower the bridge led to. She opened the tower door and heard someone cry out, "Up here, in the cage! Over here!"

She walked up the ramp, (which, incidentally was also decorated with hanging bodies), and was accosted by another dremora. But not before she was able to see an Imperial inside a cage that was hanging from the center of the tower. She must've found Menien.

"You should not be here, mortal," the dremora snarled at her, in a strange, gravelly voice. "Your blood is forfeit and your flesh is mine!"

Luckily, this time she hadn't been caught unawares, so after a brief scuffle, she was able to kill the dremora with…less difficulty.

"Hurry, over here!" the man cried out again.

As she rushed over to him, he seemed to calm down somewhat and continued in a more composed tone of voice, "Quickly, I don't think there's much time. You need to get to the top of the large tower. They call it the Sigil Keep. It's what keeps the Oblivion Gate open. Find the Sigil stone. If you remove it, the Gate will close. Hurry! The Keeper should have the key on his body somewhere—you must get that key!"

She walked back over to the creature and felt around until she felt something in one of his pockets.

"Hah," she breathed out as she pulled the key from the pocket. She tucked the key away and rushed to the exit and made her way back across the bridge. She walked back into the citadel and nearly ran to the locked door, fumbling with the as she tried to unlock the citadel hall door. After casting a quick protection spell on herself, she continued her way to get to the Sigil Keep. After making it through the Blood Feast, _again_, she found the door she needed. This room was different from the others, it looked as if the ground itself was made from charred bones, and parts of the walls looked as if they were made of skin that had been stitched together.

After having to quickly dispose of two more dremora, she saw it; the Sigil Stone. Her hands shook as they reached out to grab the glowing Stone. She plucked the stone from the beam of light suspending it, and the ground…even the air began to vibrate. The whole room seemed to become engulfed in flames.

Then everything went white.

* * *

When Felicienne came back to herself, she noticed the rain; the wonderfully cool, cleansing rain. It felt amazing on her face and the rest of her singed body. She promised herself she'd _never_ take the rain for granted again. She didn't care if it was soaking into the remains of her shirt, or water logging her leather leggings and boots, in fact, she rather welcomed it.

She remembered she needed to get back to Savlian Matius so he and his men could lead everyone to the encampment…she'd just talk to Martin…

She sat straight up, eyes going widening in remembrance. 'Martin,' she thought. 'I have to make sure he's still alive!'

She struggled to stand up, grabbing the ruins of the Oblivion Gate to balance herself as she did so. She pushed the city gate open and stumbled through to the burnt out remains of Kvatch. And there, in the middle, was the Chapel of Akatosh. It had been struck by part of another large building, but other than that, seemed to stand fairly strong.

And then three scamps came out of nowhere, charging at her, flinging fireballs every which way. The braver of the scamps would get it close and claw and scratch at her already bruised and bleeding flesh. She did the only thing she could at the moment, and that was summon her Auriel guard to fight for her. She just didn't think she could manage…she was too injured, despite the healing fountain in the Citadel, and she was far too disoriented to get her bearings at the moment. Fortunately, her Golden Saint was able to quickly dispose of the scamps and took her leave, wishing 'Lord Sheogorath' a quick recovery.

Felicienne fumbled around a bit in her satchel for a Fatigue potion; she just needed to gain a bit more of her endurance back, and she'd be right as rain. As she drank the bitter liquid, she could feel her lethargy slowly dissipate and cast a minor healing spell, just enough to make sure she kept going.

She walked to the Chapel and let herself in, hoping the survivors wouldn't attack first and ask questions later. However, when she arrived inside, a female Redguard dressed in the Kvatch City Guard uniform ran up to her and asked, "What's it like out there?"

Felicienne was still trying to fight through the remaining exhaustion while the woman continued, "We were beginning to fear we were the only survivors."

She blinked a couple times, trying to clear away the residual fog, and asked the guard, "Do you know anything about Martin?"

"Brother Martin? Yes, he's right over there. He led a group of us here during the confusion of the attack. We owe him our lives."

The young Breton let out a shuddering sigh of relief. She hadn't failed…she'd still been able to find Martin…alive! She smoothed her hair back, trying to keep it somewhat presentable in its ponytail, despite the fact she'd, _literally_, been to Oblivion and back. She walked over to where the Redguard had pointed; towards a man dressed in blue priest's robes, with brown hair, and a solemn expression.

He turned to her when she touched his shoulder, his blue eyes dull. "Have you brought help," he asked. "We've been trapped here since the daedra overran the city."

"You have to come with me, you're in danger," she stated, hoping he wouldn't be difficult.

She should have known that would've been too convenient.

"Of course I'm in danger, we all are. Who are you? What do you really want with me?" he questioned, suspicious.

She exhaled, with a bit more force than necessary, "You're Martin, right? The priest?"

"Yes," he sighed. "I'm a priest. Do you need a priest? I don't think I'll be much help to you." He continued, looking angry, "I'm having trouble understanding the gods right now. If this is all part of a divine plan, I'm not sure I want anything to do with it."

"Gods or not, we need your help. But there _is_ a plan," she insisted.

"What plan," he scoffed. "What are you talking about? I prayed to Akatosh all through that terrible night, but no help came. Only more daedra." He looked at her, harshly, "What could you possibly know that would help me make sense of all this?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was about to tell him something that seemed implausible. She needed to be prepared to defend it.

Steeling herself, she replied, "You are Uriel Septim's son."

His eyes grew large and a ghost of a derisive smile appeared on his lips, "Emperor Uriel Septim? You think the Emperor is my father?" He shook his head, "no, you have the wrong man. I am a priest of Akatosh. My father was a farmer."

Felicienne was beginning to lose her patience, and she would admit, what she said next was probably said a bit…harshly, "The daedra came here for you!"

"An entire city destroyed to get at me? Why?" he looked stricken and the girl regretted losing her temper, even if for a moment. "…because I'm the Emperor's son?" he ventured, still very disbelieving.

So she tried a new tactic, "Why would I lie to you?"

He sighed, looking off to the side, "I don't know. It's strange…I think you may actually be telling me the truth." He looked directly at her, "What does this mean? What do you want from me?"

"Come with me to Weynon Priory," she implored, her own dark blue eyes wide and beseeching. "Please," she tried again, when she feared she get no response.

He looked to her sharply, "No, even if what you say is true, I won't abandon these people to their fate. I'll go when we can all leave here together."

She was about to protest when he laid a gentle hand on her bare shoulder and looked down at her with kinder eyes. "It isn't that I don't believe you," he stated. "But I won't go with you until I know everyone can leave here, safely. We've been through too much together already for me to just abandon them to their fate."

She clenched her fists, but nodded all the same. She'd just have to go to Captain Matius and help them clear the way. She turned and walked out of the temple and into the city once again.

* * *

She ran down the hill towards the barricade as fast as her legs would allow. The sooner she helped the Guard, the sooner she could get Martin to Weynon Priory. And then they could place Martin on the throne where he belonged, and she would have fulfilled Uriel's dying wishes.

She came up to Matius who turned around and exclaimed, "You closed the Gate! I knew you could do it!" She raised her eyebrow when he said that, hadn't he made it pretty clear before he thought she would die? Unaware of her cynicism, he continued, "This is our chance to launch a counter attack!"

He smiled at her again and asked her to come with them. "You've got far more combat experience than these men. Are you ready?"

She nodded, "Yes, I'm ready, I'll be fine."

"That's the spirit," he applauded. "Men!" he barked out. "Are you ready?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the remaining guard affirmed. Matius quickly placed himself in front of them and cried out, "For Kvatch!"

They all charged into the city, with Felicienne following closely behind. She quickly unsheathed Duskfang, for the sun had already set, in preparation for another attack. When she saw that there were three more scamps, she was shocked. She'd thought her Golden Saint had taken care of them! Then she happened to glance up at the remains of a shop and saw a dremora sorcerer summoning up more daedra, if someone didn't kill him soon, they'd be overrun.

She dashed over to the dremora, but he had seen her coming. He grabbed his mace from the side of his waist and swung it towards her head. I connected with her temple, causing blood to run from the side of her face into her left eye, and she fell to the ground while he prepared to strike the back of her head, until one of the guards shot an arrow at the monster, distracting him for a moment while she used on of her legs to knock his feet out from under him. She quickly reached with her left hand for the dagger that Lucien gave her, and as the dremora fell, she pierced his heart.

As soon as he died, the scamps disappeared, leaving the exit point of the city free and clear for the survivors to make their way to the refugee camp. Matius came over and helped pull Felicienne to her feet, chuckling merrily, "We wiped those bastards out!"

She nodded, smiling faintly as her free hand dabbed at the blood on her face, trying to wipe it away. Her eye kept tearing up to wash to blood out, and her head was throbbing like mad. She couldn't wait to get to some place she could wash up and have a good night's sleep.

"It's safe to pull those people out of the chapel. Let's get in there and make sure they're all right," Matius addressed to everyone.

Everyone entered the chapel to take an account of all who was left from the remaining survivors. She over heard the Redguard she'd spoken to earlier tell Matius that they had had other people in the chapel, but they left, thinking they could make it to the encampment on their own. Apparently, none of them made it.

She made her way over to Martin, who'd been standing by the door, speaking to one of Matius' men. When he saw her, he looked quite alarmed. She figured she must've looked a fright, what with her hair matted and bloodied, her face and torso so bruised she looked more like a Dunmer than a Breton, and let's not forget, her ratty, tatted top. He must not have noticed when she first spoke to him; after all, he did have other matters on his mind at the time.

"I wondered if you'd come back," he confessed. "I admit; I've had my doubts about your story."

"Come to Weynon Priory with me," she urged again, her head tilting down in her fatigue. She just wanted to clean up, change her clothes, and get Martin to safety. But he was being rather difficult at the moment.

"You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope. You helped them drive the daedra back," he mused aloud. True…was he going somewhere with this?

"Yes," he said. Her head snapped up, looking up at his face in surprise. "I'll come with you to Weynon Priory and hear what Jauffre has to say. Lead on."

* * *

*I'm not exactly great at action scenes…but I'm trying

**A/N: And that concludes another chapter of 'Vicissitudes'. I think there will be more mentions of the Dark Brotherhood in the next chapter, but probably towards the end of the chapter. I admit though, I felt pretty bad for having Felicienne get so beat up in this chapter, but she's a tough cookie, I think she can handle it. As always, reviews are welcomed as is constructive criticism. **


	4. The Stronghold

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author:** BurningSilence

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it, I would have a _much_ better internet service provider than WildBlue. They're owned by Satan, I tell you!

**Summary:** see chapter one.

**

* * *

**

Chapter IV: The Stronghold

The trip, so far, had been painfully quiet. It wasn't that Felicienne liked to talk incessantly, but the fact she now had company, (and he seemed to be refusing to speak), was driving her to distraction. She might as well have been walking by herself. Whatever weak attempts at conversation she had tried to make had been met with nothing but silence and a slight inclination of Martin's head.

She was damn well sick and tired of it.

She knew the older man lost his home, and city, but sulking wasn't going to bring it back! Then she cringed at her selfishness…she was just lonely. It was hard for her to admit that. Maybe he just needed time. But she didn't know any way to make him feel better. As she thought about it, she remembered how she felt when her family was…destroyed, for lack of a better word. And if he felt in any way how she felt then…

…he wouldn't want anyone to make him feel better.

She heaved a sigh. This was going to be a long trip. They were already half way to Skingrad, and she wondered if he'd mind stopping there to spend the night. So she voiced her question to him.

"I'd prefer to get to Weynon Priory as soon as possible," he stated, glancing over at her. He must have seen the disappointment in her face, and came to the realization that he, too, would probably not be able to walk _all_ that way practically non-stop, and continued, "But I suppose it would prove beneficial to get some rest lest we both pass out from exhaustion. I don't think you've rested much, have you?"

She looked up, surprised he'd inquired about her well being. She blushed slightly and shook her head in the negative. "But I'm just tired," she quickly said. "As soon as I get a night of sleep, I'll be right as rain," she beamed.

"I daresay you aren't just tired, you look like you need a healer," he observed as he looked at the side of her face the dremora had struck. It was an unattractive purple and was covered in dried blood. It was amazing that she was walking as well as she was.

"Ugh," she groaned.

"What is the matter?" he asked, concerned.

"Nothing, it's just a headache. And the realization that I _need_ to buy a horse," she replied. He smiled slightly, but that vanished and he went back to looking thoughtful.

They continued on in silence for a while longer before he asked, "Where are you from?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're a Breton right?"

"Yes," she replied, a little confused, then continued teasingly. "Is it the 'pale skin and snooty expression' that gives it away?"

"I was just asking…have I offended you?" he asked. She sighed, he didn't seem to be the joking sort…but then again, he probably would have had to have been there.

"Nothing…never mind. It was just something someone once told me…" she drifted off. "Anyway, again, why do you ask?"

"You have an accent, so I assumed you weren't from Cyrodiil," he stated, a little perplexed by her changing moods.

She smiled again, "Maybe _you_ have the accent." She turned her nose up and looked away from him. Then she turned back to him, slyly, "But to answer your question, I am from High Rock. I moved to Cyrodiil…well, I suppose almost two months ago."

"How did you meet the Emperor?" he asked, having wondered that question since Kvatch.

She raised one dark eyebrow and stated, archly, "You're certainly talkative now, aren't you?"

"Well, you are dragging me all the way to Chorrol just on faith alone. The least you could do is indulge my curiosity," he said, giving her a half smile.

"He kept me alive," she told him. And by the tone of her voice, that was the end of it. He wouldn't ask anymore questions on that subject.

* * *

By the time they made it to Skingrad, it was quite late. And the innkeeper to the West Weald Inn, (Felicienne had decided to _not_ stay at Two Sister's Lodge…she shuddered to think how two Orc sisters would handle being woken up so late at night), had made sure they knew that.

"I'm sorry," Felicienne cajoled. "I _know _it's late! I'd just like to rent two rooms for the night," she begged…well, to be honest…whined.

The innkeeper merely simpered and stated, "Well I'm _sorry_. But we only have one room free."

The girl blanched, and looked back at Martin who was in, what looked like, a heated debate with a Nord who'd introduced herself as 'Else God-hater'. She wasn't keen on sharing a room with a man, especially a man she _barely_ knew, so she compromised herself in the situation.

"Is it okay if I sleep down here in the tavern? I'll pay the same rate as I would for a room. I just need a room for him-," she gestured with her thumb towards Martin "-and I can pretty much sleep anywhere if I'm tired enough…and believe me, I am."

The Imperial looked surprised and replied, "Fine with me, but if he was any sort of gentleman, he'd let _you_ take the room."

"Oh, he doesn't know I'm doing this. I think he's otherwise occupied," the Breton remarked, dryly.

The woman shrugged and handed her a key, "Upstairs, top floor, second door on the left, got that?"

She nodded and headed towards Martin to give him the key. As she arrived, the dark haired Nord woman he'd been speaking with turned to her and said, "And if _you _don't like it, you can bite my garters too!"

Felicienne was taken aback by her crude language, especially since she was a complete stranger, and just looked at her, wide-eyed, "Alright…" Feeling like she'd interrupted an…important…conversation, she handed the key to Martin, letting him know where the room was located.

She looked around for a privy, so that she could wash and patch herself up. It'd be absolutely _wonderful_ to be clean again. As she was bathing herself, she took extra care to not aggravate her head wound too much. Until she could buy some health potions, the only thing she could do was keep the injury clean. She also decided that now that she had some privacy, she could change her shirt into something…less indecent.

By the time she made it back out to the lobby, it appeared that Martin had gone to bed. So she decided she'd find a bench and curl up on that for the night.

As she lay down on her side, she was trying to figure out what to do after she was able to get Martin to Weynon Priory, safely. She could always go back and live in the Shivering Isles more…permanently. Her 'subjects' would love that. She had to admit, she did enjoy being adored…even if it was a little unnerving at times. And it was quite a bit less lonely. However, she _did_ have obligations now to the Dark Brotherhood. And everyone there had seemed to have gone out of their way to make her feel welcome…well, almost everyone, she wrinkled her nose when she thought of M'raaj-dar. He was a bit, well, _surly_, would be the best word to describe the Khajiit.

She thought of the rest of her 'family members' and how they had acted towards her. Ocheeva seemed thrilled that there was another woman in the Brotherhood; Antoinetta was welcoming, but she seemed…off about something; Teinaava made sure she knew most things that were pertinent to the Sanctuary, and had given her some more knowledge of Argonian customs; Gogron was…disturbing, but he seemed to genuinely like her; Telaendril wasn't there often enough for her to have an opinion on; and Vicente was actually quite charming…when one could ignore the fangs, of course.

And then there was Lucien…a man she saw only twice. And someone they took orders from. She had to admit, it unsettled her taking orders from someone that was rarely seen, but everyone else in the Sanctuary seemed to have a high opinion of the man. She had gotten the impression from Antoinetta that the two had some sort of relationship going on.

'Well, at least it's less…frightening than Gogron and Telaendril's little…escapades…' she thought with a grimace. Imagining the petite Bosmer and the hulking Orc entwined in any way made her feel…uncomfortable, to say the least. And maybe a little nauseous as well.

But maybe she'd stay with them, when this is all over. Other than the Shivering Isles, she had no one else to go back to…no family, no home…

As she continued thinking, her mood became bleaker. She did not want to think on this at the moment. It would do her no good. She needed to get some sleep and wake up fresh so she could escort Martin to the Priory. And that would hopefully be the end of it.

* * *

Of course, nothing could ever go as planned for Felicienne, could it?

As soon as they arrived at their destination, the Dunmer Felicienne recognized as the shepherd from the Priory came running towards the both of them.

"Help!" he cried. "You must help! They're killing everyone at Weynon Priory!"

The girl felt her spirits drop once again, and asked him to calm down. "Tell me what happened," she requested.

"I don't know," he panted. "I think they're right behind me and Prior Maborel is dead!" he panicked.

"Who's attacking the Priory?" she snapped, losing what little patience she had left.

The Dunmer swallowed, and seemed to get his breathing under control before he answered, "I was in the sheepfold when they attacked. I heard the Prior talking to someone. I looked around the corner to see who it was. They just looked like travelers, ordinary. But suddenly weapons appeared in their hands and they cut the Prior down before he could move! They saw me watching, and I ran."

"Where's Brother Jauffre?" Felicienne demanded, hoping his years of being a Blade would serve him well, right now.

The shepherd shook his head, "I don't know, in the Chapel praying, I think…You must help us!" he pleaded.

He took off running, not waiting for an answer, interested in saving his own life. She soon caught a glimpse of one of the men attacking the Priory, and recognized the armour as the same armour the men who killed the Emperor wore.

The assassin she had seen began running towards her, mace in hand, preparing to strike. She quickly parried it with Dawnfang, hoping to keep the assassins from Martin. What misfortune would have shone on them to have Martin die _right in front _of Weynon Priory?

Or maybe that was irony.

But as she peered over the head of the assassin who was attacking her, she noticed Martin had shot a frostball at her attacker's partner, killing him in one blow. In her surprise, she nearly missed dodging the next blow the agent tried to land on her. She quickly slashed her attacker down when she heard another man cry out. She recognized him as one of the other monks that lived in the Priory. He was doing his best to fend off the assassins, but looked as if he'd need some help…and soon.

Before she knew it, Martin had run up ahead with a dagger, unsheathed, and plunged it into the assassin's neck. Again, Felicienne was dumbfounded.

'So, priest by day, Fighter's Guild member by night?' she thought sardonically as she caught up with Martin. 'What in Oblivion was the point of me escorting him here when he clearly didn't need _my_ help? He can't be an ordinary priest. I've _never_ seen _any_ priests that fight like that.'

The monk that they'd helped turned to both of them and told them, "They came out of nowhere!" Then as he looked more worried, "Have you seen Grandmaster Jauffre?"

Felicienne shook her head, "No, but the shepherd told me he was in the Chapel."

"He may need our help!"

'Yes,' she thought. 'And I need to know why they'd attack here, right as I was bringing Martin here.'

The three of them hurried to the Chapel, just in time to see Jauffre try to fend off two more assassins.

"Damn it!" Felicienne shouted as they noticed the newcomers. "They're just like ants; they just keep resurfacing!"

With the four of them, it didn't take long to dispose of the remaining two agents. When they'd finished, Jauffre turned to Felicienne and sighed, looking glad to see here. "You're back, thank Talos."

She could only nod, still trying to catch her breath.

"They attacked with out warning," he continued. "I was praying in the Chapel when I heard Prior Maborel shout. I had just time to arm myself."

A look of realization morphed his face as he lamented, "The Amulet of Kings! I fear that was the target of this attack. I kept it in a secret room in the Weynon house. We need to see if it is safe."

When Jauffre informed them of this turn of events, the young Breton had a feeling of foreboding creep up her spine. She expected the worst. "I'll go check on the Amulet," she sighed.

The older man smiled grimly at her, "We'll go together, but I fear the worst."

'So do I, old man,' she thought.

* * *

"They've taken it!" the monk cried out. "The Amulet of Kings is gone! The enemy has defeated us at every turn!"

Felicienne was sure she looked affronted. "I found Martin," she scowled. "He's safe." 'I should have kept that damn Amulet on _me_. They'd have a harder time taking it off my person than taking it out of a secret room.'

He looked relieved, "So it has not _all_ gone against us. We gained Uriel's heir, and lost the Amulet of Kings." He went on to say, "Martin cannot stay here, it isn't safe. We may have driven them off, but they will be back once they learn of Martin's survival. Which, they will."

The girl rubbed her hand across her face in frustration, "Where will he be safe, then?"

"Nowhere is truly safe against the power arrayed against us. But we must play for time, at least."

'That is so comforting,' the girl thought, wanting to roll her eyes.

"Cloud Ruler Temple, I think," the grandmaster continued. "It's the hidden fortress of the Blades, in the Jerall Mountains near Bruma. A few men can hold it against an army," he remarked. "We should leave at once. You may as well use Prior Maborel's paint from the stable. I don't think he'll have much use for it any longer," told her, looking grieved at the thought.

Felicienne lowered her eyes, now she regretted not being able to arrive here in time to help everyone…

"_You can't think everything is your fault with out thinking you're _that_ important, Felicienne."_

She shook her head, trying to clear the random thoughts that would fly into it at any given time…and _that_ particular thought had sounded too much like her brother.

"Then we should get going. I'll get Martin," she replied, eyes still downcast.

She walked down the stairs to find Martin speaking with the monk they'd first encountered in the attack. They were speaking in low tones, not as if they were keeping secrets, but more like they were trying to be considerate of whatever Jauffre and she might have been talking about.

She walked over to him, slowly, so as not to startle the two men with her sudden appearance and placed her small hand on Martin's shoulder. The monk Martin was speaking to left to attend to what was left of the Priory. When Martin turned to look down towards her, she smiled and informed him in a soft voice, "Jauffre thinks it's best if we head to Cloud Ruler Temple for the time being."

He nodded, taking all of the events of the past few days in. He then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "That may be best," he told her. "Besides, I haven't had a good night's sleep since Kvatch was attacked," he continued, grinning slightly. Felicienne assumed he was trying to lighten the mood.

She found herself smirking back at him and teased in a haughty voice, "Well, it's not as if I didn't give you the nice, comfortable bed when we were back in Skingrad. So you hardly have a reason to complain. _I_ was the one who slept in the lobby on a wooden bench, good sir!" With that she turned her head away from him with her nose in the air. She peered back at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him trying to suppress a chuckle.

"Oh, sure, laugh at _my_ expense. _Such_ a _gentleman_!" she scoffed. Then she looked up towards the second floor of the house, "I think Jauffre is packing a few things up there."

"When are we to leave?" Martin questioned.

"I think in a little while. Jauffre seems eager to get going, which is understandable. We don't know when those people might come back."

As she said that, Jauffre descended the stairs with a satchel of that looked to contain potions 'just in case'.

They made their way out to the stable behind the Priory where they each mounted a horse, much to Felicienne's delight, (_no more sore feet!_), and began their trek up the Orange Road, and straight towards Bruma. Everyone had since agreed that even though it would be much quicker to just cut through the woods, they would be putting themselves in unnecessary danger. Besides, the horses probably wouldn't enjoy the rough ride had they decided to journey through the forest.

* * *

So far, the trip hadn't been too awful. They'd mostly talked softly between themselves, and only had to stop a couple time while they were being accosted by either bandits (damn them) or wolves. Felicienne still flinched when she had to kill animals, which of course, led to the men laughing, quietly, at her expense.

Bastards.

It had grown quite cold over the past couple hours as they neared Bruma and entered the Jerall Mountains. The temperature, while a change the Breton welcomed, made her wish she'd worn something a bit more substantial than a simple linen shirt and leather trousers. She glanced over at Jauffre and Martin, and neither of them seemed to be feeling the frosty air as intensely as she did. She glared slightly in their direction. 'Men never get cold, the lucky brutes,' she sniped in her mind.

Martin chose that moment to look up from his conversation with Jauffre to see Felicienne's narrowed eyes directed at the both of them. He fixed her with a surprised and questioning expression; she just mumbled "nothing", simpered, and shook her head.

"I'm just cold," she stated.

Jauffre looked up and asked, "Why didn't you wear something warmer?"

Felicienne just gave him a look.

Martin chose that moment to jump in with smile, "I imagine she's already asked herself that question, if that expression is anything to go by."

The girl just looked down at her horse and mumbled something that sounded like 'men'.

As her face was downcast, she heard Jauffre say, "We're almost there, Cloud Ruler Temple is just ahead."

Felicienne peeked up and saw that, indeed, there was a huge building up in front. It looked exotic when compared to the traditional architecture of Skyrim and northern Cyrodiil.

When they finally got to the Temple, a heavily armoured Redguard ran out to Jauffre and whispered something to him. Jauffre appeared to reply, leaving both Martin and Felicienne slightly confused. The Breton turned to Martin and shrugged, Jauffre must have already planned on coming here before she'd even returned with Martin.

She noticed a few more soldiers coming out of the courtyard to, she assumed, escort Martin inside. The Redguard stood in front and bowed to Martin.

"My lord! Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple! We have not had the honour of an Emperor's visit in many years!"

Martin looked like he might be floundering, if his bewildered countenance gave anything away, "Ah, well, thank you! The honour is mine."

Jauffre smiled, "Come! You're Blades are waiting to greet you!"

The Grandmaster led everyone into the courtyard, while Felicienne stayed back, standing near the top of the stairs as she watched the Blades split into two lines both on either side of Jauffre and Martin.

"Blades! Dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch. The Empire is in Chaos," Jauffre intoned. "But there is yet hope. Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim!"

The Blades began to hail Martin as a Septim, and Felicienne looked towards Martin to see how he was handling himself. He looked rather frayed. She supposed that was understandable. It wasn't everyday that someone finds out they are an illegitimate child of an emperor.

Jauffre turned to Martin and grinned, "Your Highness, the Blades are at your command. You will be safe here until you can take up your throne.

Martin nodded, and cleared his throat, "Jauffre, all of you…I know you expect me to be Emperor, and…I'll do my best, but this is all new to me." He looked down, chagrined and continued, "I'm not used to giving speeches, but I wanted you to know that I appreciate your welcome here. I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days. That's it. Thank you."

Felicienne raised her eyebrows and Jauffre turned to Martin and thanked him for the…speech, then told the rest of the Blade to resume their duties.

She was about to head back down the stairs and make her way to Bruma for the night when Martin stopped her. "Not much of a speech was it?" he smiled, although it appeared as more of a grimace. "Didn't seem to bother them, though" He then frowned and looked away from Felicienne, "It's strange, the Blades saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim."

He shook his head slightly and looked back at the girl, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know I would be dead by now if it weren't for you. Thank you. But…everyone expects me to suddenly know what to do, how to behave. They want an emperor to tell them what to do. And I haven't the faintest idea…"

"Well," Felicienne interjected. "We need to get the Amulet back."

"Of course. The Amulet of Kings. So we…_I_…can take it to the Temple of the One and light the Dragonfires. And stop the Oblivion invasion…" Martin trailed off, looking thoughtful.

Felicienne nodded and grinned, "And then you will be Emperor."

"The Emperor…_that's_ and idea that will take some getting used to," the former priest stated, bemused. "In any case, we need the Amulet first. Maybe Jauffre will know where to start."

As he turned to walk into the Temple, Felicienne told him, "You'll be fine, Martin. I'm sure you'll be able to handle anything that happens. Now, I guess I should go speak to Jauffre," she ended with a sigh. After that, then she'd go to Bruma and, hopefully, find an inn with a room.

She walked to Jauffre with the intent on asking about the Amulet of Kings, but was surprised when he asked something else of her instead.

"You have proven yourself a loyal servant of the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin's side during this crisis," the older man smiled at her as she was wondering where he was going with this conversation.

"As the Grandmaster of the Blades, I would be honoured to accept you into our order. Will you join us?"

Felicienne floundered for a bit, not sure what she should do. Surely, it would be an insult to refuse this generous offer…but she couldn't help feel like a hypocrite joining the Blades, what with her other…obligations.

"What would be my duties as a Blade?" she settled on asking, before making any decisions.

He looked pleased that she was at least considering the offer as he answered, "The Blades are sworn to the service of the Emperor, as the mortal representative of the Dragon Blood of the divine Talos."

She sighed quietly, it didn't exactly answer her question, but she could guess what he meant. She would do whatever Martin would require of her. Not too different from her current situation, really.

"Yes, I'll join the Blades, then," she replied, hoping she wasn't digging herself into a hole.

Then Jauffre smiled more brightly and clasped her hand in a firm handshake, "It is my honour to welcome you into our ranks as a Knight Sister of the Blades."

"Yes, well, thank you," Felicienne mumbled, embarrassed. "Now, what are we going to do about the Amulet of Kings?"

"We need to find it before the enemy takes it out of our reach. You should head back to the Imperial City. Baurus may have learned something about the assassins. You'll find Baurus at Luther Broad's Boarding House in the Elven Gardens district of the City."

Felicienne nodded, making a mental note to stop by Cheydinhal first before going on to the Imperial City. She'd need to see if there were any contracts Vicente wanted to give her.

In any case, she had a long trip ahead of her.

**

* * *

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A/N: Ah, here it is, the delayed update. In my defense, my internet is an unholy creation made by the beast we know as the desolate one, and on top of that, my computer itself is also pretty evil (and temperamental). And this is sort of a filler chapter (le gasp!) but I wanted to make it a bit interesting, especially since most of it is just…

_**walking**_**. Walking to Chorrol, then walking to Bruma…then later there's walking to Cheydinhal…but I'll skip that for the next chapter. Please, feel free to critique this chapter, I'm not very happy with it. And the Dark Brotherhood will be in the next chapter…maybe even a contract…^_^**


	5. Of Old and New Acquaintances

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **R (I'll let everyone know if it goes up)

**Disclaimer: **I think we all know the answer to this by now.

**Summary:** Bit of a change here: Now, instead of possible romance, there will actually _be_ romance in this story. Although, I don't think that's going to be much of a surprise for anyone -_-.

* * *

**Chapter V: Of Old and New Acquaintances**

Not for the first time since starting out to Cheydinhal, Felicienne was thankful for the horse she'd been 'loaned' from Weynon Priory. Instead of it taking her a full day to go from Bruma to Cheydinhal, it'd taken her roughly six hours…with rest!

Now, though, she was heading towards the Sanctuary, ready to eat a small dinner, settle in for the night, and maybe accept a contract before jotting off to the Imperial City to find Baurus. If she remembered correctly, he'd been one of the Blades she'd come across as she was 'escaping' prison the night the Emperor was killed. She wondered what he was doing at Luther Broad's.

'Drinking himself into a stupor?' she thought, amusedly. Although, that was probably not what he was actually doing there. Probably just scrounging the area for information…usually it was the seedy places that tended to attract people who knew…things.

Before she knew it, she found herself in front of the abandoned house she needed to enter. She looked around, making sure no guards were watching, before she let herself inside. She hated to admit it, but the entryway into the sanctuary still gave her gooseflesh…especially the door's depiction of the Night Mother and her five children. Something about it just sat wrong with her. Perhaps it was the knife she was holding that was aimed at one of the children?

As soon as she stepped inside, she immediately made her way to the main living area where she sat herself at the long table and grabbed an apple and some mead.

"Are you still refusing to eat the ham?" an amused voice asked.

Felicienne found herself blushing and mumbled, "Shut up, Antoinetta."

The blonde woman just laughed at her younger friend's embarrassment. Apparently, the girl had a hard enough time killing any wild animals that would attack her for encroaching on their territory, let alone _eating_ any of them. They'd shared a couple meals before Antoinetta had caught on. Seeing as Felicienne would only eat the fruit or bread at the table, carefully ignoring the ham or venison, or any other meat anyone had picked up at the market.

"I think it's cute," she went on, ignoring Felicienne's discomfiture. "You're a murderer, you have no problem killing people, but you can't handle eating animals."

Felicienne mumbled something unintelligible, and Antoinetta strained to hear it.

"What was that?"

The girl just sighed and stated, "I just don't like the fact that something died so I could eat it. It's disturbing."

Felicienne would never admit it, (out loud), but Antoinetta was her favourite person in the Sanctuary. She filled the role of a sister wonderfully; at least, Felicienne felt that she did. She'd never had a sister before, so she supposed she wouldn't really _know_ what it felt like to have one. She wouldn't mind it, though, if Antoinetta stopped teasing her for reading children's stories, or for avoiding meat at mealtime.

No one could be perfect, though.

"Are you going to pick up a contract from Vicente?" Antoinetta asked, changing the subject fluidly. Felicienne just looked over and raised an eyebrow before answering.

"Yes, I'm thinking about it. Why?"

"I'm just wondering; you've been away for a couple days. Ocheeva was beginning to worry. Although, that might have had something to do with Lucien dropping in, rather unexpectedly I might add, inquiring on everyone's progress…including _yours_, Felicienne," Antoinetta ended with a smirk.

Felicienne blinked in surprise, "Why would he care about me? I haven't even been a member for two weeks." She stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment, "And how would _you_ know what they were talking about?"

Antoinetta had the decency to look self-conscious before admitting, "Alright, so I _may_ have been listening at the door of Ocheeva's quarters, but that doesn't change anything that they said!"

The younger of the two snorted in a rather un-ladylike fashion before murmuring something that sound like, 'nosy'. Antoinetta was a shameless gossip-monger, self admittedly as well, so it was no surprise she'd stoop to eavesdropping to 'garner information'. Even though Felicienne knew the woman just was hoping to hear news of her possible progression. More specifically, she wanted to hear if their Speaker was paying her any special attention. It was a well known fact through the Sanctuary that Antoinetta had designs on becoming Lachance's Silencer. Felicienne snickered at the thought. She wouldn't lie, though. The thought of advancement was tempting to her as well. Felicienne liked to succeed in whatever she did.

She supposed she'd be described as ambitious, however, she tried not to let that colour her relationships with people she…associated with.

Felicienne polished off the rest of her apple, and gulped down the remains of her mead, before standing up and heading towards Vicente's quarter. She turned her head back towards Antoinetta and announced she was going to pick up a contract.

The blonde woman smiled and responded cheerfully, "Good luck, sister! I hope you don't get killed!" The she blanched, thinking over her words, "Er, well, you know what I mean."*

The girl just widened her eyes while giving Antoinetta a playful smile and inclining her head towards her. Sometimes it appeared as if Antoinetta didn't think before she spoke, but she knew her older sister didn't mean anything by that remark…at least, she hoped she didn't.

* * *

Felicienne would've rather stayed at the Sanctuary for a few days more, but she did have more pressing matters than her own comfort to take care of at the moment. For instance, finding Baurus in the Imperial City, then making sure an 'accident' befell an old Bosmer named Baenlin. Fortunately she could do the latter on the way back to Cloud Ruler Temple.

Arriving in the Imperial City, Felicienne found herself overwhelmed. Though she had vague memories of it before she'd been arrested, she hadn't been able to appreciate how large it was. Already, she found herself lost; wandering around in the Market district looking for the exit that would lead her to the Elven Gardens.

So far, she wasn't having any luck.

It seemed as if she was just going around in circles, somehow always finding the entrance to the Arena, or the gods' forsaken prison. Felicienne huffed in frustration, and plopped herself down on a nearby bench, feeling her aggravation catch up to her.

"I just want to find Luther Broad's Boarding House, damn it! Is that so much to ask for?" she groaned as she rubbed her face with her small hands.

"Did I hear you say Luther Broad's?" a male's voice inquired.

Felicienne lifted her head and looked towards the voice's source. He was an older Breton with grey hair and a kindly smile. "Yes," she answered. "Can you help me find it? I've a horrible sense of direction."

He looked surprised, "It's in the Elven Gardens district."

"I know that!" she snapped, then continued, flushed from shame. "I can't find the district itself…I just keep going around in circles!"

The man let out a hearty laugh, ('At my expense, no doubt,' she thought, seething), before he replied, "You just need to follow the main path east," here he stopped to point the correct direction, "And you continue on straight. Don't make any other turns. Before you know it, you'll be in front of the entryway in no time."

Felicienne hopped up off of her bench and clasped the old man's hand, "Thank you! Thank you so much! I started out in the Waterfront and the people there were absolutely no help at all!"

He laughed again and waved her off, "If you really want to thank me, tell your friends about 'Edgar's Discount Spells', here in the Market district. I sure could use the business!"

Felicienne found herself smiling despite herself; the man really had been very helpful. The least she could do was peruse his wares. She thanked the man again, with the promise she'd stop by his shop and see if he had anything that interested her.

As she continued on the path Edgar had shown her, she noticed where she made (her continuous) mistake; she kept getting turned around in one of the smaller shopping plazas. Now, she just felt stupid, a feeling she was (unfortunately) becoming familiar with. And that feeling was just compounded as she came across the doorway the led into the Elven Gardens.

She sighed and let herself through, wishing she could slam her head against the stonewall, repeatedly. After that fiasco, it wasn't all that hard to find Luther Broad's, especially since there was a large sign proclaiming its existence in front of the building. She opened the door and walked in, scanning the room for the Redguard she remembered from prison.

She noticed him sitting at the bar and approached him quickly. She tapped him on the shoulder and took a bit of pleasure in seeing his surprised expression. She grinned.

"Did you miss me?"

* * *

"Another scavenger hunt," she muttered under her breath. It wasn't that she _really_ minded looking for some books…it was just how _time-consuming_ she'd know it'd be. Of course, the first two of the four volume series were easy enough to get a hold of. So _naturally_ the last two volumes would be harder than hell to come across.

She was making her way towards the shop 'First Edition' from the Arcane University to see if the shop keeper there had the third volume of 'Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes'…although she wasn't sure about the fourth. Everyone she'd asked said it was impossible to come by. Not just _nearly_ impossible…no, that was reserved for lucky book number three. The fourth had to be full on impossible to find.

She let out another huff of frustration as she found the bookstore. As she stepped inside, the first thing she noticed was how _snooty_ the proprietor appeared. He glanced at her with a look of absolute boredom and went back to reading his newspaper.

'It's not like there's anything _new_ in there,' she thought. 'They're still covering the Emperor's _death_. It's been nearly two months now!'

She walked up to the counter and asked, "Do you happen to know where I can find the third and fourth volumes of 'Mysterium Xarxes'?"

The Redguard raised an eyebrow and said, condescendingly, "Oh, you mean '_Commentaries on_ the Mysterium Xarxes'. It's a common mistake."

Felicienne gritted her teeth as she replied, "Yes, the '_Commentaries_'. Do you have the third and fourth volumes, or what?"

"As a matter of fact, I have the third volume in stock," he said. "However," he continued as he saw the relief flash in her eyes, "it's on hold for someone else."

"_What_?" she exclaimed, angrily.

"Yes," the owner continued, looking rather smug. "He's traveling all the way from Valenwood to pick it up." The he screwed is face into a look of consternation, "Although, he's running a bit late for our appointment."

"Well, I need that book!" she cried out, rapidly losing any patience she might have possessed.

"And I told you it's on hold for somebody else!" he snapped. "If you can manage to work out a deal with the fellow who's buying it, then you can do whatever it is you want! But otherwise, I can't sell it to you!"

"Then I'll wait for him to show up!"

"Go ahead!"

With that, Felicienne stomped off to find a chair, flopped down into it and crossed her arms, making sure to glare spitefully at the shop owner. She was prepared to wait as long as it took for the client to arrive. And for his sake, he'd better not give her any grief over that damn book.

* * *

In the end, it hadn't taken much to get the book away from that irritating Bosmer, (Felicienne felt herself begin to develop a sharp pain behind her eyes as she thought about him), and had been able to _persuade_ him with out having to resort to violence. Which was lucky for her, really, since he seemed to be a screamer and would probably alert the City Watch…and she didn't need to be arrested, _again_.

In fact, she'd even gotten some extra information out of him. And a _handy_ little note.

Apparently Mythic Dawn, (and who came up with _that_ name for a Daedric cult bent on world destruction was beyond her), had a meeting set up with Gwinas (at least, that's what he _said_ his name was) and that he would receive the fourth and final volume there, as an initiate of Mythic Dawn. And that would be where the letter would come into play. It seemed to serve as a 'ticket' of sorts; one needed to have it if they wished an audience with the Sponsor.

Unfortunately, the meeting would take place in the _sewers_.

Felicienne cringed, she'd had enough trips through sewers to last her a lifetime, thank you very much. It'd taken her a week to feel clean again after the last time she'd had to crawl around in one. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, wearily. She was so tired; she'd been running around all day. But fortunately, the meeting with this Sponsor was to take place tomorrow. She'd just have stay at the Boarding House after giving Baurus the information.

She let out a sigh of contentment as she reached the inn, wanting to do nothing more than flop down onto a nice, comfortable bed and drift off for say…the next few weeks.

As she stepped through the doorway, Baurus walked right up to her, joking that she was hard to get a hold of.

She just narrowed her eyes at him and stuck out her tongue.

"Did you get them?" he asked, meaningfully.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, tiredly. "Except for the fourth one. Apparently, we'll need to meet with someone they're calling a 'Sponsor' to receive the fourth volume." Then she handed him the letter she'd receive from Gwinas. He took it and quickly scanned the contents.

"It looks like this will take some undercover work, doesn't it?" he asked wryly, not looking up from the letter.

Felicienne made an affirmative sound in the back of her throat.

"The meeting's for tomorrow in the sewers here. And as lucky would have it, I know these sewers very well," Baurus smirked. "Although, I always did wonder who put those chairs and table in there…" he trailed off.

"I can see where you might find that perplexing," she chuckled. She sobered up quickly, though, as she thought about what might happen tomorrow afternoon. "How do you want to handle this?" she questioned.

"I think I should be the one to meet with the Sponsor, but there's a catwalk above where I believe the meeting room is, and I want you to act as my back up. Just in case something goes wrong. I'll point it out to you when we get there tomorrow."

She nodded, feeling worried. It wasn't that she thought he couldn't handle himself; it was just that she _knew_ what she was capable of. She supposed this was partly his way of making up for failing to protect Emperor Uriel…he'd taken that very personally.

She pitied him for that.

"It's getting late, and we'll have a big day tomorrow," he interrupted her musings with a friendly clap on her back. "We should get some sleep, and I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of booking you a room here for the night."

"Oh, no, not at all," she stammered. "Thank you, I'll pay you the gold…"

But he held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. "It's the least I can do. After all, it was my idea to kill you back in the prison," he joked.

"Alright then, I don't feel bad about you paying for my room," she replied, turning her face from him in an attempt to look haughty.

"Besides," he continued, grinning at her. "It was just ten Septims."

To which she replied with a very unladylike snort.

As Felicienne and Baurus emerged from the sewers, she had to admit; the mission hadn't gone that badly…well, if you over looked the fact that they were almost ambushed. She was glad she'd managed to keep Baurus alive, and they were able to get the fourth volume of the Mythic Dawn Commentaries.

At first it had seemed as if everything was going to be alright, until Felicienne, standing guard on the catwalk overlooking the meeting room, noticed two other agents approaching her from the other side. Fortunately, they hadn't seen her until it was two late. However, before she'd been able to kill the second one, he'd shouted a warning to the sponsor. It was lucky Baurus was a trained soldier, or he might not have survived.

"You should get these books to Tar-Meena at the University and see if she can provide us with anymore insight on where the Mythic Dawn's hidden shrine is. I'll head to Cloud Ruler Temple; as a Blade, my place is at Martin's side," he told her. "I trust you can handle this?" he taunted.

"Oh, that's how it is, is it? I save your life only to be mocked by you? I don't feel like you appreciate me, Baurus," she teased back. "You just see if I ever help you again."

"Don't be so sensitive. I know the books are in good hands." He sighed and straightened his pack. "I'd better go now, though."

"Will you be alright?" she asked, it was already becoming dark. "Don't you at least want to stay at the Boarding house for tonight? It's a bit of trip to Bruma."

"I'll be fine; I'll stop in Aleswell for the rest of the night, if that will make you feel better," he grinned.

"Don't patronize me," she grumbled. "It's completely reasonable for me to worry."

He laughed and nodded, "Maybe, but you need to get to the University, and I need to get to Martin."

"Yes, you're right. Well then," she hoisted her, now heavier, satchel over her shoulder, "I best get going, now. You too, you lazy sod."

He just shook his head at her and walked off. She rolled her eyes and started to make her way through to the Market District. Baurus had been pleasant to work with, despite still feeling guilty over the Emperor's death, he'd kept a light-hearted air that made their 'undercover' work less nerve-wracking.

When she got to the University, she found Tar-Meena sitting in the lobby reading a manual on spellcraft.

She smiled as she greeted the Argonian woman, "Hello, Ms. Tar-Meena."

The older woman looked over and her and beamed, "Well, if it isn't the Mythic Dawn scholar. Do you have the last two volumes?"

"Right here in my pack," she chirped, feeling irrationally proud of herself.

"It's a good thing you caught me now, I was almost getting ready to head off to bed as soon as I finished this chapter," the mage stated, pleasantly.

"I'm sorry, should I come back tomorrow?" Felicienne asked.

"Goodness no, Loredas is a very busy day for me; that's when all the apprentices are at the library, researching for their mentors. A bunch of procrastinators, if you ask me," Tar-Meena groused.

Tomorrow was Loredas? As soon as she was done with this, she'd have to head out to Bruma as well. Hopefully she wouldn't run into Baurus on the way; he didn't need to what kind of 'errand' she had to run was.

"Anyway," the older woman continued. "Why don't you let me study those books for a day or so. It's usually a common practice for these types of groups to put hidden messages in their sacred texts. Usually, by breaking this code and finding their way to the shrine, the prospective member has already passed his or her first test on the road to 'enlightenment. With any luck I'll turn up with something soon."

"Of course, not a problem. I'm sure you'll find something faster than I would," the girl grinned. Besides, no one needed to know that she'd managed to lift copies of volumes one through three off of the corpses of the would-be assassins. Hopefully she could make do with out the fourth book, especially since now she had an idea what she was looking for.

But now, she needed to get herself up to Bruma and stage an accident for an unlucky Bosmer.

* * *

This was clearly not Felicienne's day…er, evening. First, she'd arrived too late; the old codger had already gone to bed, which, of course led to her sneaking through his bedroom to the crawlspace over the living room. She'd decided to wait it out until eight o'clock the next night. Judging from the amount of dust on the door to the crawlspace, no one came back here very often.

So, she waited, cramped and uncomfortable, bored out of her mind as the hours crawled by. She must have dozed off sometime during the day, because when she woke up again, it was dark out. Or, at least she thought it was, since there was no light coming through the tiny window at the top of the small room.

Quietly, she crept out of the crawlspace, and peeked outside of the bedroom just enough to see if the old man was sitting in his 'favourite' chair. After making sure the Bosmer was seated comfortably, and that his manservant Gromm, a Nord who bore a striking resemblance to a Jayred Ice-Veins, was no where in sight, Felicienne decided to make her move.

Being as silent as she possibly could, she made her way back to the crawlspace, and loosened the supports for a mounted Minotaur head. When she heard the crash, and Baenlin's exhalation, she knew she had succeeded, and that she'd better get the hell out of their before Gromm came investigating.

Not caring about being quiet anymore, she ran out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the basement. Finding the door that had been her original entry point, she quietly (so as not to alert any neighbors) opened the door and rushed out into the chilly night.

She'd need to travel to Cheydinhal soon, to collect her reward, but first she needed to head back to Cloud Ruler Temple for a good night's sleep. The confined area of the crawlspace had made it impossible to rest comfortably. And maybe while she was there, she'd take a look at those bothersome books as well.

'But first things first', she noted as she stared down at herself, dressed in her Shrouded Armour, 'I need to find a place to change.'

**

* * *

**

A/N:

There it is, chapter five, finally! I'm sorry it took longer than usual. Or, at least I think it took longer than usual. It's a bit shorter than my other chapters, and I apologize for this. Hopefully, it won't take as long to get chapter six out, but I'm not sure as I _may_ be going out of town for a day or so. 


	6. Forgotten Paths

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **R

**Disclaimer: **I think we all know the answer to this by now.

**Summary:** Just see the first chapter ^_^

* * *

**Chapter VI: Forgotten Paths**

"Argh!" Felicienne growled. "I'm never going to get this," she groaned as she dropped her head, harshly, on her desk. "Owww…"

"Are you alright?" came a deceptively gentle voice.

"Huh? Oh, Vicente!" she gasped when she saw the older man leaning in the doorway. "I'm fine, just…bumped my head a bit too hard on the desk." She smiled while rubbing the tender spot on her forehead.

The vampire just raised an eyebrow and gliding over to Felicienne's chair and looked over her shoulder. "I didn't know you had an interest in daedric cults, dear. What exactly are you doing?"

"It's really more for a friend of mine," she winced after she said that; no one ever believed the whole 'friend' thing. "I'm trying to find a hidden meaning in here, but after reading these three books, the only thing I can find is this," she held up a crumpled note to Vicente for him to read it if he wished.

He took it from her hand and read what Felicienne had written, aloud:

"Greetings Reader, Enter Every Night, Enter My Palace. Endlessly Roaring, Offering Red-drink. Whosoever Answers Your Whisper Hides Enraptured. Recorded, Enslaved The Oath-breakers Woe. Every Reader That Once Understood Chim, He Endeth Starlight."

"That was just my desperate attempt at finding something," she pouted. "I just took the first word from every paragraph…it's stupid, isn't it."

Vicente just made a motion with his hand to silence her, as he continued squinting at the wrinkled parchment, moving his lips silently. Finally, he looked up and spoke, "No, it isn't stupid at all. I think you had the right idea, but take a look at this, and apply your concept to the first _letter_ of every paragraph." He smiled and handed her the note.

She furrowed her eyebrows and began to copy down the first letters and let out a relieved breath. She smiled up at Vicente and read, "GREEN EMPEROR WAY WHERE TOWER TOUCHES…" then she frowned. "Touches what? Urgh," she groaned again, her head going right back where it was when the older man walked in.

"I'm assuming you don't have everything you need to finish?"

"No, there's one more book, but someone else has it," she sighed. "I hate esoteric cults; they make everything so damn difficult!"

"Don't worry," he said, patting Felicienne's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find what you need to eventually."

"I hope so, this is getting old," she groused. Then she perked up a bit and asked, "Where's Antoinetta?"

"She's on a contract."

"Oh," the girl's face fell a bit. "Telaendril?"

"Also out."

Felicienne looked more upset, "Ocheeva?"

"On a contract," he replied, smiling at her moue of disappointment. "Why do you ask, anyway?"

"I wanted to talk to _somebody_. Teinaava's alright but he's always going on about Argonian customs, Gogron is…Gogron, and M'raaj-dar hates me," she huffed. "And I don't want to bother you, especially now."

"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, you've already helped me with this, and I'm sure you have more important things to do than keep a Slayer company," she sighed. "And I don't particularly want to go out and meet anyone right now, because I'm damn tired."

He chuckled a bit. "I don't mind keeping you company while the other women are out. It's not like I can just go outside like this, now can I?" he smiled wryly at her.

"Hah," she laughed, a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I forgot that you…"

"No, it's perfectly alright. It's rather refreshing for someone to _forget_ I'm a vampire, than dwell on it, I suppose," he teased, flashing her a bit of fang.

Felicienne's eye widened a bit as she swallowed heavily. Vicente sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

The girl shook her head, "I'm not uncomfortable, er, well I'm not afraid of you. You're definitely not the scariest thing I've seen…not that you're a thing, I mean…"

The man laughed and held up his hand, "I know what you meant, I'm not offended. But, if you don't mind my asking, what would you consider the most frightening thing you've come across?"

Felicienne looked away, a sting beginning to build behind her eyes. She took a deep breath to calm herself before answering, "You know I'm not from Cyrodiil originally, right?" Vicente nodded, that was one of the few things Lucien had mentioned when he alerted the Sanctuary members of the new recruit. "I'm from a city in High Rock called Jehanna, near the Skyrim border. Actually, we lived just outside the city walls. My brother and father were members of the Mages' Guild; of course my father was retired already, but my brother was still very active in the guild. Especially when it came to the ban of necromancy. Both of our parents were so pleased he was staking such a 'conservative' stance in the guild. But then we started receiving threats from some former members of the guild. You can guess why they left after necromancy was banned. We weren't the only people threatened, though."

She had to pause for a moment, the events were still too fresh in her mind. "My parents wanted me to visit a friend of mine in Evermor. Her name was, well is, Chiarina, we'd grown up close to each other; her mother owned an inn _my_ mother adored. Anyway, she'd married a fairly well to do traveling salesman who had a home in Evermor. Since he was gone, again, on business…I think somewhere in Hammerfell…she arranged for me to stay at her home to keep her company for a few days. When I went back home…I felt something was wrong, I thought I might just be a little unnerved because it was getting dark as I returned…but I found out how wrong I was when I went into the house."

She bit her lip to distract herself as her memories began playing out as if the scene was unfolding before her very eyes, "I went inside and everything was just…_wrong_. The place was a mess, tabled overturned, scorch marks on the wall…my mother would've killed anyone who tore her house up like that." She laughed at the thought, but it was a hoarse, hollow sound, as if she were only just holding off her tears. "I must not have been paying attention, because before I knew it, something attacked me. It was them…my parents! My brother…!" At this point, she was sobbing openly, with Vicente looking unsure as to what he should do. So he settled on brining her into an awkward half-hug, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "They'd tortured them, killed them, and then used their bodies like they were puppets!" She covered her face, ashamed she'd broken down the way she had. "I'm so sorry," she cried. "I didn't mean to start crying…it happened awhile ago…back in the beginning of Last Seed."

"How did you get away?" Vicente asked, softly, trying to calm the girl down.

"A boy was passing by, he was heading back to his home after running an errand for his father in town, or so he told me later. He said her heard me cry out and saw me struggling with- with my family and he threw his torch at one of them, igniting him…I think it was my father, and as he f-flailed, he crashed into the other two. Before I could understand what was going on, the fire spread to the house itself, and the boy was telling me we had to get out. I don't think I was being much help, because I remember being pulled outside. What I remember most was the house I'd grown up in, engulfed in flames…along with the rest of my family…so I think that's the scariest thing I've ever seen. After that, I just…ran. I came to Cyrodiil, I think, to escape."

They were silent for a few minutes, save for Felicienne sniffling and trying to bring herself under control. Vicente was the first to speak after some time.

"How did you come to be here, then? After all of that?"

Felicienne gave a small, watery smile, "I thought you would know _that_."

The vampire rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue at her, "Of course I know you killed someone, you twit. I'm just curious as to what made you kill this poor soul."

"He asked me to kill him," she replied.

"Excuse me?" Vicente asked in disbelief.

"Ha! I surprised the three hundred year old vampire!" Felicienne laughed, regaining her composure.

He just arched an eyebrow at her and gestured for her to continue. She cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly at him.

"Well, he came to me with a business proposition. Asked me if I wanted to earn some gold, and as I was low on funds, I accepted. He told me all I needed to do was complete a simple task and when I asked what that task was, he told me he needed me to kill him," she stated. "Told me he was miserable, all he saw was death and decay everywhere he went, and that he just wanted it to end. So I pushed him off of a rather tall balcony." She shrugged her shoulders, during her time in the Shivering Isles she'd come to terms with Hirrus' death, and her hand in it. Mostly her hand in it.

"Ah, so it was a mercy killing," Vicente mused.

"Yeah, I suppose you could say that."

"Did you get your reward?" he questioned.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes I did, it just wasn't gold. I got an enchanted ring from his jewelry box instead. It's really quite pretty, but it feels strange to wear it. I can't bring myself to sell it, though." She rubbed her eyes, feeling a bit better after her little 'break down'. Ashamed, but better.

Pressing her hands into her eyes, she stated, "I need to go to the Imperial City pretty soon, actually." At Vicente's questioning look, she explained, "That's where my friend who has the fourth book is."

"Excellent, maybe you can carry out a contract while you're there," Vicente replied.

"Alright, what do I need to know about it?" There was a gleam in the older man's eyes that Felicienne wasn't sure was a good thing.

"It isn't exactly a standard contract. It requires an expert in infiltration. Truthfully, I wanted to extend this contract to you, anyway. Somehow, I think you'll be familiar with the surroundings," Vicente smirked.

"I'll accept," she answered, tentatively.

"Your target is a Dark Elf named Valen Dreth. He thinks he is safe in prison, he is tragically mistaken."

Dreth…why did that name sound so familiar? Memories she hadn't thought about for quite some time began to flood her consciousness:

"_Shut up, Dreth! Someday, you're going to say the wrong thing, to the wrong person, and then you'll finally get what's coming to you! You're an animal, Dreth," a gruff voice shouted, while leaving rations in Felicienne's and the Dunmer's cell. _

"_I'm sure your wife will agree with the 'animal' part, Imperial pig! Bet she hasn't been _satisfied_ in _years_!" the man in the other cell; Dreth, she assumed, goaded the guard._

_Felicienne rubbed her eyes, sleep hadn't come easy last night, or, at least she didn't think it did. Truthfully, she couldn't remember a thing about what happened last night, just that she was wandering around near Imperial City, trying to find an place to stay for the time being, then someone grabbing her, the smell of alcohol…and then nothing ._

_She huffed in frustration and crawled to the meager scraps of food she'd been given. An apple, some bread, and a small cup of water, she sighed; maybe they planned on starving her._

"_Oh, well would you look at that?" cooed an oily voice. "Pale skin, snotty expression. No need to guess who you are; you're a Breton. The 'masters' of magicka! You're nothing but a stuck up harlot with cheap parlour tricks! Bet you can't make those bars disappear, can you? Ha!"_

_Felicienne bristled at his taunts, but dread was becoming a heavy stone that weighed down in her stomach. What had she done to be arrested?_

"_But what's a pretty little thing like you doing in here? I heard you attacked a couple members of the Imperial Legion. Nearly killed one of them. The guards down here weren't very happy about that, let me tell you! But I'm sure they'll treat you real nice when they get a good look at you, they always treat the pretty one's well. You know, one of the guards owes me a favour, I could get us put in the same cell. Usually my tastes only lie in Dunmer maidens, but it's been so long I find I couldn't care right now. And you're pretty enough. You might as well have some fun before you die. Oh, that's right; you're going to die in here, Breton! You're going to die!" he cackled._

_Felicienne felt several things at that moment; first and foremost was a strange combination of nausea/disgust. As if she'd let anyone lay their hands on her! Followed quickly by fear…they were going to kill her? That had to be just talk; obviously the Dark Elf was deranged. And then there was confusion; how could she be punished for something she didn't remember? Why would she have attacked _anyone_ in the Legion. She may not have the utmost respect for them, but that didn't mean she'd attack them. She wasn't that stupid. They had have gotten the wrong person! _

_Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and hushed voices speaking rapidly._

"_You hear that, Breton? They're coming for you!"_

"Are you alright?" Vicente asked. "You seemed lost in your own world for a moment."

Felicienne shook her head to clear away those thoughts, "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, please continue. I promise I'll pay attention." She smiled weakly.

Vicente just smiled knowingly and continued, "A prisoner escaped a couple months back from the prison, using a set of secret tunnels connecting to the Imperial City's sewer system. It's a perfect way inside."

Felicienne's eyes widened a bit, and she tried to hide a grin. She bet that little mystery had baffled those pigs at the prison.

"Just outside the Imperial Prison is a grating that leads to the sewers. It has since been tightly locked, but I will provide a key. It should be easy enough to locate Dreth in his small cell. Besides," Vicente looked at her thoughtfully, "I think you know the way, hmmm." He trailed off, laughing. He regained his composure long enough to say, "Dreth has been imprisoned for many years. His tongue is sharp, but his body is limp and frail. He will prove an easy, pleasurable kill. You will receive your bonus if you fulfill the contract with out killing any guards. Now go, and may the Night Mother go with you."

'Oh, he'll be a pleasurable kill, all right. But not for the reasons your thinking,' she thought, a tad viciously. Yes, of course she remembered Dreth now. The Dunmer who'd made sure what time she'd had in prison had been terrifying. And who'd had the nerve to…_proposition_ her. Her skin crawled just remembering it.

Back to business, though. If she were to sneak in past the guards who were now patrolling the tunnels, she'd need to learn an invisibility spell, and the only person here who taught spells was… 'M'raaj-dar', she sighed. Well, she had enough gold, perhaps she could _persuade_ him.

As started towards the training room, remembering that the Khajiit was usually in there destroying the poor target board. She took a deep breath before she approached him, preparing for his usual hostility.

"What? What do you want?" he snarled.

"I was wondering if you could teach me an invisibility spell, I have a contract that requires an abundant amount of stealth," she told him.

"First, do you want an invisibility spell, or chameleon spell? You _do_ know the difference, don't you?" the mage sneered.

'Of course I know the difference, you mangy alley cat. My whole family was in the Mages' guild,' she wanted to say, but instead settled for smiling and nodding. "Yes, I just need to know a simple invisibility spell. I don't need to attack anyone until I get to my target."

"_Simple_? Hmph, I'm not surprised you'd think something like that, but in any case, I have to help you. Ocheeva told me I did, and that's the _only_ reason I'll teach you," he scoffed.

Felicienne's smiled strained, this spell better be worth it.*

* * *

As Felicienne wandered around the sewers, she was thankful she'd decided to visit Tar-Meena in the University first. She'd never be able to explain this smell on her clothes…or her clothes for that matter. Besides, she wasn't completely sure she'd be able to evade all of the guards once she got into the tunnels. It wouldn't do to be arrested in front of the University.

Fortunately, her visit with Tar-Meena went rather quickly, as the Argonian mage had filled her in on the last part of the code: MIDDAY SUN. After she took care of everything here, and went back to Cheydinhal of course, she'd head back to the Imperial City and to Green Emperor Way to try and find…whatever it is that Mankar Camoran was directing his 'acolytes' to.

But now was not the time to be thinking about that. She had a sewer to craw through and a Dunmer to 'visit'.

* * *

Getting through the sewer system wasn't really all that hard, with the exception of a few mudcrabs, rats and goblins, and a couple gates that required lock picking. Felicienne winced when she noted how many she'd broken just to get through those doors. She'd need to buy more from M'raaj-dar, although his prices were outrageously high. Five gold for a single lock pick; the thief.

She took a deep, calming breath as she quietly opened the Sanctum entrance. Her pulse quickened in both excitement and anxiety. She didn't exactly 'relish' her contracts, but she didn't shy away from them, either. The thrill she got from completing a mission, and slipping away undetected gave her a 'high' of sorts. She was, however, quite nervous of being caught. The guards weren't exactly accommodating the last time she was here.

And there was no Emperor to pardon her this time.

As soon as she stepped into the small corridor, she heard some of the guards talking:

"Of course I'm proud to do my duty. But…it's a waste of time. What are we guarding? Cold stone and shadow. That's it," she heard one say.

"I'm not disagreeing," replied another. "Those assassins got what they wanted. The Emperor's dead, they've got no reason to come back."

Felicienne rolled her eyes as they continued to chit chat. Gods, were all the guards this long winded? Most of the conversation consisted of them complaining about their job, and was really quite dull to listen to. But when the two guards made plans on what to do when they were off duty, she had to stifle a snicker when the first guard she'd heard remarked his companion was 'afraid' of the Orc bouncer at the Bloated Float.

"Pfft, I ain't afraid of no one. Courage is my middle name, I…oh, never mind," she heard him grumble.

As soon as she heard them walk away, she cast her spell. 'Just remember, don't touch anything, and don't open a door until you absolutely are ready to go through,' she reminded herself. She couldn't very well have the spell wear off while a guard was passing by, now could she?

She ran, as quietly as she could, hoping they'd just pass her off as another rat scurrying about. When she arrived at the door to the Subterrane, she looked around to make sure the guard she'd followed into the chamber wasn't around, before reaching out to open the door, dispelling the invisibility effect.

But as soon as she stepped through that door, she recast the spell, hurriedly. Though she was invisible, she still skulked around in the shadows; that way the slight disturbance her body made in the surrounding air wouldn't be noticed. She didn't want to take any chances. Who knew what the guards would do if they caught her.

Somehow, she didn't think she could get by with paying a fine.

After several more nerve-wracking doors and turns, she finally found herself at a very well known hole in the wall. Ah yes, here it was, her old cell. Still a rat hole, as it were.

She stopped before she could step up and into her cell, seeing the torchlight and guessing by the voices she heard there was a guard in there as well. She pressed herself against the wall, fully visible now, listening in for when the guard might leave.

"I have to admit, I'm going to miss you Dreth. The late night beatings, your pitiful little cries for help…"

Felicienne rolled her eyes, of course. Then whatever shall they do for entertainment down here?

"Filthy cur! I told you I was going to get out of here! My time's almost up and there's nothing you can do about it!"

'Dreth,' she thought, lips turning up into a smirk. She'd recognize that taunting voice anywhere. Yes, this would probably be the one contract she liked in a purely selfish way. Too bad she couldn't drag it out, but time was of the essence.

"Yeah, well, what's it been? Seven, eight years?" she heard the guard mock him. "We've had a good, long run, you and me. I always knew it would end someday."

"Eleven!" the Dunmer snarled. "Elven years in this rat infested hole. But I'm getting out, and you'll be stuck in here!"

"Oh yeah? And where will you go? Huh? What will you do? You can't survive out there, Dreth. You're an animal. You belong in that cage." Felicienne huffed silently, how long was this banter going to keep up?

"I'll remember that when I'm lying on the beaches of Summerset Isle with your wife, you Imperial pig!" Dreth goaded. Felicienne idly wondered what his obsession with the guards' wife was. She also wondered why he liked to rattle the guards so much if all they did was beat the living hell out of him. Maybe he was into that sort of thing; she knew plenty of people in Crucible who were.

At this, the guard let out a hearty chuckle, "Right. And you'll be rich too! Oh, and you'll become a king! You know what I think, Dreth? I think you'll be back. You lot always come back."

'Not this time,' the Breton thought, feeling rather impatient. Didn't that guard have anyone else to beat up?

"You'll see, you Imperial dog! When I get out of here, all of Tamriel will know my name! Valen Dreth! Valen Dreth!" Felicienne slid down the wall and sat down, it didn't look like she was going any where any time soon.

"Alright, alright," the guard grumbled, irritated. "I'm tempted to let you out right now if you'll just shut up." Felicienne jolted up as soon as she heard the guard's heavy footsteps move away from the cell.

When she was sure he was gone, she stepped out of her old cell and into the dim torchlight. When the Dark Elf saw her, his eyes widened in recognition.

"Wait, I know you…You…You're the one! That day the Emperor was killed! They went through your cell! You lucky bastard! But…you came back? Come one, you've got to help me! Let old Valen out of this cell. You've got your freedom, now give me mine! What do you say, friend?"

"The Night Mother says goodbye," she smiled softly at him.

"The Night Mo…no! NO! Guards! Guards! Help me! Somebody help! Assassin!" he cried out.

"Gods, you never shut up, do you?" Felicienne snarled and grabbed the front of his shirt through the bars. With her free hand, she took hold of her dagger and stabbed him through his heart.

"You're going to die in here, Dunmer. You're going to die!" she whispered to him.

* * *

Getting back into Cheydinhal had been easier than Felicienne would have thought it to be. She managed to slip past all of the guard in the prison, again, and in doing so, she would receive her bonus.

She'd rest at the Sanctuary for a few days, and then head back to the Imperial City so she could see what there was in Green Emperor Way. Perhaps it provided another clue to the location to Mythic Dawn's hideout.

Felicienne had already seen Vicente, and he'd been most pleased with her report. She'd received something called the Scales of Pitiless Justice, another magickal trinket. She hadn't been paying too much attention while he explained what they did, but she supposed she could do some research on them; her mind had been otherwise occupied.

She searched out Antoinetta, but couldn't find her; she must've still been on a contract. Or maybe she went on another one. Instead, she found a petite Wood Elf who was busy restringing her bow.

"Telaendril!" she called out, a smile on her face.

"Hello sweet sister! Do you need help with something?" the brunette asked.

"No, not really, guess I just want some company," Felicienne replied. "Are you too busy?"

"Oh no, I could do this in my sleep, I've done it so often," Telaendril gestured to her bow. "I've noticed you've made quite a bit of progress here, I'm sure soon you'll be up for advancement."

"Really? I didn't think I'd made that much progress, I've only been here a short time…"

"Nonsense! It's not the amount of time you've been here; it's how well you've performed. You've never even incurred a bounty for _trespassing_ while on a contract! Not something all newer members can do, let me tell you!" the elf finished resolutely.

Felicienne didn't say anything; she just hummed softly in response as she started to take down her hair out of the ponytail she usually wore.

"Ahhh," she sighed, fluffing her hair. "That feels so much better. I was beginning to develop a headache."

Telaendril laughed at her, and asked, "You're very fond of Antoinetta Marie, aren't you?"

"I, I suppose," Felicienne blushed. "She was the first person, other than Lucien and Ocheeva, that I met here, and she's been so kind to me. I'd always wanted an older sister…and I guess that's why I'm always talking to her." She furrowed her brows, "Where did that come from anyway?"

"You just always look for her first whenever you want company. You should be careful, though," the older woman told her gently.

Felicienne tilted her head to the side, confusion marring her features, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not saying Antoinetta isn't a lovely woman, but you've already caught the eye of someone she's been after for quite some time. One of the higher ups. Some women do very desperate things when they feel they've been…cornered," Telaendril spoke with meaning, almost as if she was trying to hint at something a bit deeper. Then the elf shook her head and smiled, "It's just some talk I've heard in Ocheeva's office."

The Breton frowned, "Does this have something to do with my progress? Have it upset her that I may be up for promotion before she is?"

"You're so young, Felicienne," she murmured. At the girl's look of dismay, she said, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it's nothing. Just keep doing what you're doing, but be on guard, alright?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it and nodded instead. She had other things she needed to concentrate on right now, anyway.

**

* * *

**

A/N:

So this is a bit longer than my last chapter, and we have some foreshadowing. And I was able to finish it on Sunday after all. Unfortunately, we had some problems with our powerlines...but that's finally resolved. I had really wanted some Telaendril interaction in this chapter; I think she's under appreciated. I mean, come on, she impressed Lucien Lachance by escaping _him_ when he was sent to kill her, and then murdered her own father who was the one who put the contract out on her! How can I _not_ love her? As always, reviews as ideas are welcome. 


	7. The Path of Dawn

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **T (yes, I changed the rating, nothing M-rated…yet.)

**Disclaimer: **I think we all know the answer to this by now.

**Summary:** Just see the first chapter ^_^

* * *

**Chapter VII: The Path of Dawn**

It was already nearly noon when Felicienne arrived at Green Emperor Way four days later. She'd spent more time in Cheydinhal than she'd expected too. She felt a bit strange walking around a cemetery looking for some clue as to where a murdering, daedra-worshipping cult would hide itself in Cyrodiil. Although, she felt more disturbed by the fact whoever provided the directions to the Mehrunes Dagon shrine, (presumably it was Mankar Camoran), did so by 'desecrating' a grave of a member of the royal family.

But really, that seemed to be his way.

She shielded her eyes as the sun glinted off the top of White Gold Tower. She looked down at the shadow the massive tower cast, and on a hunch, followed it to where it stopped, right in front of the tomb of Prince Camarril. What she saw on the tombstone baffled her:

There was a glowing red map of Cyrodiil with a marker near the Valus Mountains. She pulled out her map and held it underneath the one on the tombstone. The indicator seemed to be placed north of Cheydinhal, and close to Lake Arrius; she supposed she'd just have to walk around in that general area until she found it.

She sighed, that sounded easier than she knew it was going to be. She also knew she might very well die doing this mission. But she needed to return the Amulet of Kings to Martin. That didn't stop her from being frightened, though.

These were the same people who were able to assassinate the Emperor and all of his heirs…except for Martin. And they found out about him even before Felicienne could get to him. She was a little afraid she wouldn't be able to pass herself off as an initiate. She made sure she made the correct mark on her map before she tucked it back into her satchel and prepared to leave the Imperial City via the Arboretum and Arcane University walkway. She'd walk to the Waterfront District and find her way to the Red Ring Road and, hopefully, would head towards Cheydinhal. She'd been there often enough, now; she shouldn't get lost. It'd be the trip through the woods that'd make the whole journey a bit dicey.

Sighing again, she ran her hand through her hair nervously, and adjusted her leather cuirass and trousers. She'd briefly entertained wearing her assassin's garb, but again, thought it might bring too much attention to her. Attention she didn't want; she'd have enough problems blending in with the Mythic Dawn. From what she understood, Mythic Dawn had no room in their 'hearts' for anyone else other than the Daedric Prince of Destruction; not even for Sithis. So her being a loyal servant of such an entity could potential pose a risk in her infiltration.

The trek was a long one, and it was well into night by the time she reached the approximate location marked on her map; unfortunately, she didn't see anything resembling a shrine. However, there was a cave near by Lake Arrius, which may be where they were located.

She began to make her way down the cavern into a large opening underground. She spotted a man in a red robe who, when he noticed her, came up to her and greeted, "Dawn is breaking."

Struggling for a minute, she remembered what Tar-Meena told her to say if she was greeted this way. Recovering, she answered, "Greet the new day."

When the man smiled, Felicienne let out a small sigh of relief. He made a welcoming gesture as he continued, "Though the hour is late, the Master still has use for willing hands. You may pass into the Shrine. Harrow will take you to the Master for you initiation into the service of Lord Dagon. Do not tarry. The time of Preparation is almost over. The time of Cleansing is near."

After the keeper opened up the door behind him, Felicienne made her way through with a feeling of foreboding. She had no idea what to expect after she crossed this threshold. As he continued walking, a Dark Elf was there to greet her before another door.

He introduced himself as Harrow, Warden of the Shrine of Dagon. He let he know that by following the Path of Dawn hidden in the Commentaries that were written by their 'master', Mankar Camoran, Felicienne had 'earned' herself a place among their chosen.

Harrow smiled, "You have arrived at an opportune time. You have the honour of being initiated into the Order by the Master himself."

Felicienne felt her palms begin to sweat and tried to rub them, inconspicuously, on her trousers.

"As a member of the Order of the Mythic Dawn, everything you need will be provided for you from the Master's bounty," he held out a crimson garment before he continued. "Give me your possessions and put on this initiate's robe."

"W-what?" Felicienne stuttered, her fear beginning to take a firmer root.

He placed a hand on her should in, she assumed he considered, a soothing manner and told her gently, "I understand it's not everyday you are given the opportunity to stand amongst and serve a greatness such as our Master and Lord, and that the experience may be a little overwhelming. So I ask again, give me all of your possessions and put this robe on."

It appeared that refusal was not an option here.

"Alright," she agreed, handing over her satchel, and her weapons. She thought about asking him to turn around as she disrobed, but had a feeling he wouldn't be very obliging. Her fingers shook as she undid the fastenings on her cuirass and breeches, she didn't like the idea of _anyone_ watching her undress, least of all this man who'd demanded it of her.

When she was finished she handed him her clothing after slipping on the initiate's robes he'd given her.

"Very good," he smiled. "I will take you to the Shrine."

Harrow led her through a series of corridors, bypassing a few other members of the Mythic Dawn; some were people she recognized just in passing. Many of these people were folks who'd seemed…_normal_, she supposed, as she passed them in various towns and villages. And now they'd seen her face. After this, there would be no turning back; she'd be too widely recognized. There'd be very few places she'd be safe.

They finally approached the Shrine room, and there, in the middle of it, was Mankar Camoran. Felicienne was sure her jaw fell open in shock. She truly hadn't thought she'd see him here. And he was wearing the Amulet of Kings! Well, how was she supposed to get it _now_?

As she made her way down to the 'auditorium' she could hear what Camoran was saying more clearly: "Praise be to our Brothers and Sisters! Great shall their awards be in Paradise! Hear now the words of Lord Dagon.

"'When I walk the earth again, the Faithful among you shall receive your reward; to be set above all other Mortals forever. As for the rest, the weak shall be winnowed; the timid shall be cast down; the mighty shall tremble at my feet and pray for pardon.'

"So sayeth Lord Dagon. Praise be," Camoran concluded. Felicienne's heart sank as she saw Camoran open a portal and disappear through it, taking with him the Amulet of Kings. 'Praise be' echoed around the chamber as one of the attendants at the Shrine told her to step up after Camoran disappeared through the portal, presumably to his 'Paradise'. Felicienne made her way up the steps and noticed an Argonian priest who was unconscious on a stone slab. The attendant handed her a knife, and informed her that in order for her initiation to be complete, she'd need to kill the priest. The attendant handed the girl a silver dagger and looked at her expectantly.

She looked over at the priest on the altar and mumbled, "Nothing personal," and then she stabbed him. Since he wasn't awake, there was no struggle, and he died as peacefully as could be expected.

"Now your initiation into the Mythic Dawn is complete," the attendant grinned, clapping her on the back. Felicienne was barely paying attention; she was trying to figure out her next move. Mankar Camoran escaped with the Amulet of Kings, she was initiated into Mythic Dawn…she sighed. Today was clearly not going her way.

She noticed most of the people had cleared out of the room, and the few that were remaining were talking amongst themselves. While she was looking around, her eyes fell on the book that Camoran was reading out of; The Mysterium Xarxes. She could hardly believe he'd leave it behind…but maybe Martin could use it to find out how to get into Camoran's Paradise.

She took a deep breath, taking notice of Harrow and a couple others standing nearby, and made a dash for the book. As soon as she grabbed it, the statue of Dagon collapsed and alerted the others in the room of what she'd done.

"Unbeliever!" Harrow shouted, lunging at her. She tucked the large tome under her left arm and used her free hand to slash at him with the silver dagger they'd given her to kill the priest; she needed her things back, and he still had her pack.

After dodging several blows he'd tried to land on her with a conjured mace, she finally managed to sink her blade into his neck and bled him to death. She grabbed her pack, slung it over her should, and ran off; trying to dodge other members while stuffing Dagon's book into her bag. Unfortunately, when she'd been admitted to the shrine room they'd seal a gate behind her. She needed to find an alternative escape route, and fast.

Apparently, the commotion alerted everyone in the whole damn cave to something being amiss. Seeing no other way, and wanting to buy herself some time, she went invisible.

"She was here a second ago!" one of the acolytes yelled.

"What happened in here?" someone called out.

"An initiate stole the Sacred Book and killed Harrow when he tried to stop her!"

"Find her; don't let that treacherous whore escape! She _must_ be made an example of!"

Not liking the way that sounded, Felicienne hurried towards what looked like another tunnel. Perhaps she could find her way out from there.

* * *

It was difficult, and exhausting, but Felicienne finally managed to escape the Mythic Dawn headquarters; _with_ the Mysterium Xarxes and only had her invisibility spell wear off a few times. Although, those few times had been very inconvenient for her.

Fortunately she'd gotten away with minimal damage, and was now on her way to Cloud Ruler Temple. Though she hadn't been able to retrieve the Amulet of Kings, she hoped they could find a use for the consolation prize she brought back. The book practically hummed with power, tempting anyone within distance to try and harness the dark magick it possessed. She made sure to keep it as separated from her other things as she possibly could, given their enclosed space.

When she'd put some distance between herself and the caverns, she sat down to rest a bit. She could see the sun beginning to rise over the Valus Mountains. She looked around, trying to get a feel for where she was. Judging by her surroundings, she must've traveled farther north than she thought; she was out of the forest and close to, what looked like, the Jerall Mountains. It'd be tough, but perhaps she could make it to Cloud Ruler by evening. If not, she could always stay somewhere in Bruma.

Of course, as she came to this conclusion, it began to snow.

"Great," she muttered, huddling the robe tighter around herself. Then she sighed; she needed to change clothes. She couldn't very well run around dressed like one of the people who'd been responsible for the Emperor's death, now could she?

She found a secluded space and changed back into her leather cuirass and trousers, hoping at least her own body heat would keep her warm while she moved, and tried to make her way to The Silver Road.

* * *

It was around midnight when she trudged into the main hall of Cloud Ruler, and she was quite surprised to see Martin was still up, sitting at one of the tables reading a book. She'd decided against staying _anywhere_ until she'd dropped _that book_ off with Martin. She didn't like how it made her feel while she was carrying it. It made her feel…anxious. Twitchy and nervous, her fingers itching to crack it open and sate her curiosity for the knowledge it contained. Although she doubted she could read it; she hadn't studied in depth on daedric languages. Sure, she understood some things, but nothing that would aid in her translating something as extensive and complex as the Mysterium Xarxes.

She smiled weakly and called out softly, "Martin! You're up?" She didn't enjoy having to report her failure to retrieve the Amulet, but it needed to be done…unfortunately.

Martin lifted his head up from his book and smiled at her, "You're back. I told Jauffre not to worry." His face fell when he took in her subdued demeanor. "…I can see you have bad news. You didn't recover the Amulet, did you?"

She bit her lip and shuffled her feet a little, "No, but I have the Mysterium Xarxes…"

He stood up abruptly and slammed his hands on the table in front of him, "By the Nine! Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!" She jumped back and dropped her satchel, holding her hands up in a gesture of contrition. However, she winced when she heard several bottles break in her pack; those would probably be her moderately expensive healing potions. Martin closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "Forgive me. You were right to bring it, but you'd better give it to me. I know some ways to protect myself from its evil power."

She swallowed and hesitantly asked, "Can the Xarxes lead us to Camoran?"

He looked down and shook his head, "I don't know. Maybe. I suspect the secret of how to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise lies within these pages. I will need time, though. Tampering with dark secrets, even just reading them, can be very dangerous. I'll have to proceed carefully."

She grinned, feeling a bit more relaxed now, "And what do _you_ know of the dark arts, Priest of Akatosh?"

He smiled slightly, "I haven't always been a priest, you know. In my youth, I followed a…different path. I put aside the dark arts when I became a priest. But the workings of fate may be seen in this, too." He looked off to a point past the dark haired girl and continued, "'The gods can turn anything good', or so I piously told those who came to me for advice. Perhaps I may come to believe it myself." He stepped towards the Breton and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I am sorry for reacting as I did when you told me you brought the Xarxes. It was more out of concern for you, than anything else."

Felicienne looked away, blushing, "You don't need to worry about me; I can take care of myself."

"We were _all_ a bit worried about you; you're not exactly disliked around here."

She flashed another grin and winked at him, "I know; I'm wonderful."

"You may be, but don't let that go to your head," he chided teasingly. "You should get some sleep now."

"You should too, Mr. I'm-going-to-stay-up-all-night-reading," she taunted. "We can't have our Emperor passing out from lack of sleep, now can we?"

* * *

She was quickly becoming very fond of Cheydinhal, Martin had flat out told her to take some time for herself; it'd be awhile before he was able to get anything from Dagon's book, so she might as well enjoy the 'vacation'. She'd left the Temple yesterday and didn't even have to think twice about where she was going.

Although, at first she thought she'd be more attracted to Bruma (it was _so_ very much like Jehanna) she found the city of Cheydinhal quite agreeable to her. Even if the fines left something to be desired; she'd heard several townsfolk complain about them, and the new Captain of the Guard, Ulrich Leland. Something would probably have to be done about him…

And if that wasn't interesting enough, Lucien Lachance was at the Sanctuary, _again_! When she asked Antoinetta about it, she'd told her it was a bit unusual; Lachance only visited two, maybe three times a month. To her knowledge, this was the fourth visit in the same month. Apparently, he was dealing with an unusual contract and had decided to stay for a couple days.

She got the feeling she was being watched. It made her uncomfortable. Antoinetta appeared to be the opposite; she was positively giddy. And an _incorrigible_ suck-up. At least, Felicienne thought it was sucking up. Telaendril seemed to think it was something else. When it had come up when she was speaking to Gogron, he'd shrugged and just grumbled, "Women." He must've been having problems with Telaendril.

And Vicente rarely had anything to say about Antoinetta; Felicienne suspected it had to do with her cooking.

Whenever Teinaava saw how Antoinetta was acting around Lachance, he'd just say something along the lines of, "Disgraceful how she carries herself around him." And Ocheeva just shook her head.

Felicienne didn't see what was so 'disgraceful' about it; Antoinetta was just looking to be…indispensable. The younger girl felt that this was understandable, given the life her 'big sister' had hinted at having before coming to the Sanctuary. Even if it did get a little tiring listening to the blonde list the virtues of Lucien Lachance…_everyday_.

Which is what led Felicienne to her current position; face down at the small table in the living quarters.

"'Oh, dear sister! Did you know that Lucien became a Speaker of the Black Hand at twenty-five? Did you hear how Lucien handled himself when a contract when sour and he had to fend off ten Imperial Legion Soldiers?'" Felicienne mocked to herself, imitating Antoinetta's voice as best she could. "'Did you also hear how he fought off an army of trolls, exorcised the haunted ruins of Xitharn, and later, just for kicks, saved a puppy?'"

"Excuse me?" a deep voice questioned.

Her head jerked up, eyes wide with panic, "Speaker!" she gasped out. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked, her face felt like it was on fire.

"I came in somewhere between the Imperial Legion and the puppy-saving," he replied, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm so sorry, it's nothing personal, it's just that Antoinetta's been…I'm so sorry," she bemoaned, burying her face in her hands. 'I'm in so much trouble,' she thought miserably. To her surprise, he let out a chuckle and sat down next to her.

"I'm well aware of what Antoinetta Marie is saying. Teinaava has made sure of that," he informed the terrified girl. She looked up at him, blinking huge, blue eyes at him owlishly.

"So, I'm not in trouble?" she ventured, looking hopeful.

He smiled, "Of course not; I would just like to know something first."

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"I saved a puppy?"

"It was just the last thing I thought of," she muttered, still very embarrassed.

He chuckled again, and pulled back his hood, revealing shoulder-length dark brown hair that was gathered tightly at his nape into a neat ponytail. Nothing like the mess her hair allowed. She cocked her head slightly and furrowed her brows.

"Yes?" he queried.

"Oh, nothing. I've just never seen you with out your cowl before, I'm sorry if I'm staring," she flushed and looked at the table.

He gave her a secretive sort of smile; the kind of smile Felicienne wasn't sure she trusted, and he told her, "Well, it's alright, I suppose. I've seen you in far less clothing, and I'll admit I stared quite openly." Felicienne's eyes widened almost comically, trying to think back to anytime that what he was saying may have even been possible, when she noticed he seemed to be trying to hold back another laugh.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to control her blushing. "Oooh! You're teasing me!" she narrowed her eyes at him and huffed. "Hmph, I wish you wouldn't do that," she turned her head away from him, but peered at him from the corner of her eye. "According to everyone else, you've been here more times in the past month than you usually are any other time. Is something going on?" Then she looked own again, "Forgive me if it's not my place to ask, sir."

He folded his arms across his chest, regarding her seriously, "There is an…_unnerving_ situation that is being looked into. I can't say much more on the matter; but if it helps, think of it as being under review. I am merely checking on everyone's progress."

She raised her eyebrow, "I thought that was two weeks ago. But have your secrets, I've no need for them."

"I hear from Vicente you'll be coming up for advancement very soon. There's a contract he's eager to give you. I suggest you talk to him as soon as possible," he stated, getting up to leave. He held his arm out for her to help herself up.

She looked at him for a second before responding, "Oh, you mean now, don't you? Sorry, I guess I'm a bit slow on the uptake today." She took a hold the proffered arm let herself be helped up from her chair. 'I could have done that myself, though,' she thought, a mite irritated. 'I better go pick up that contract from Vicente.' "Thank you," she murmured, excusing herself from the room.

As soon as they stepped out of the main living area, Antoinetta quickly stepped to the side in a vain attempt to conceal what she had been doing. Encountering the surprised expression of Felicienne, and the calculating expression of their Speaker, the blonde woman stumbled for something to say. "I-I was just coming here to grab something to eat. Um, I'll be getting to that now…" she mumbled as she ducked her head and stepped inside. When they were gone, she slumped down in a chair and sighed loudly. She hadn't been able to hear _everything_ they said; the doorway was too far away from the table to allow that. She'd really only been able to hear Felicienne, since Lucien had been speaking in tones too low to carry very far. She'd heard enough to understand the general idea of their conversation.

It hadn't bothered her that the younger girl was going to be advanced soon. The girl worked hard, and had a flawless record so far; she would deserve the promotion. It was the way Lucien was speaking to her. It had almost seemed…flirtatious. Antoinetta didn't want to think about that. At least Felicienne didn't seem to notice; it looked as though she felt Lucien was merely making fun of her. That girl could be so oblivious sometimes…

"Looks like our Speaker's taken quite an interest in our little Felicienne, doesn't it?" Antoinetta jumped as Gogron's voice shocked her out of her day dream.

"I'm sorry, Gogron, I didn't hear you come in," she apologized.

He looked surprised and told her as much, "Well, you must have been deep in thought, to have not heard me come it. I've never been accused of being too sneaky."

Antoinetta laughed a bit, before sobering up and asking, "What did you mean by the Speaker taking an interest in Felicienne?"

"Oh, I overheard him talking to Vicente earlier. Remember that contract in Chorrol he went on earlier; the one where he had to kill that fellow's mother for that _special_ contract? I heard him telling Vicente to hold that contract for _her_. Something about him having faith in her skills, and it being a good test to see if she should be advanced. What position is she up for anyway? Isn't it Eliminator? Personally, I thought she should've been advanced after infiltrating the Imperial Prison. That took _talent_!"

Antoinetta nodded dumbly; Lucien was _saving_ special contracts for her?

"You aright? You look kind of sick, sister," Gogron asked, feeling a little concerned for the normally cheerful blonde.

She swallowed thickly, "I'm fine, just a bit of a headache.

* * *

"Ah, I've been waiting for you," Vicente smiled as Felicienne stepped into his chambers.

"I was told you had a contract for me?"

"Yes, this is a rather unique set of circumstances. Normally, we are called upon to take a life, but not this time. This contract requires us to stage the assassination of a marked man. Will you accept it?"

Felicienne nodded, curious as to what this contract would entail.

"As always, you fail to disappoint me," Vicente told her, pleasantly. "You need to travel to the city of Chorrol and break into the house of a Francois Motierre. Inside, you will find him waiting for you; do not kill him! You see, he owes a considerable sum to the wrong kind of people. So, they've sent and enforcer to kill him." He handed her a blade and continued, "Use this specially poisoned knife to stage Motierre's death, in the enforcer's presence. Motierre, himself, will provide more details. This is an unusual contract. Motierre had to make a special agreement with us before it was approved. I trust in your professionalism."

"May I ask, what was the special agreement that need to be worked out?" Felicienne asked, almost worried about the answer.

"Normally, we would have refused, no matter how much gold is involved. Sithis demands blood. However, Motierre offered his own mother in addition to a hefty sum of gold. Lucien already took care of that little detail a couple days ago."

She nodded, making a hum of agreement. Motierre's mother must have been a _lovely_ woman for her own son to offer her up as a sort of 'collateral'. It looked as if her vacation was over, and she'd need to travel to Chorrol very shortly.

She sighed and headed back to the living quarters to pack some things she'd need.

**

* * *

**

A/N: I finished this chapter sooner than I thought I would. I'd like to make something clear; I'm not trying to portray Antoinetta in a bad light. I

_**love**_** Antoinetta; I think she's a very dear character. She's just being shocked into behaving this way, I suppose. She's still fond of Felicienne, just a bit jealous. After all, she **_**is**_** in love with our favourite Speaker, isn't she?**


	8. Of Ghosts and Family

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **I think we all know the answer to this by now.

**Summary:** Just see the first chapter ^_^

…

**Chapter VIII: Of Ghosts and Family **

_Special_ contract, they'd said. Chance to prove yourself, they'd said. But what was it they _didn't _tell Felicienne?

That the _bloody_ chapel undercroft was _cursed_!

Of course, she'd found out eventually; from Motierre, _after she'd revived him!_ He said his ancestors saw his 'resurrection' as a desecration to their _sacred _resting place. She should've just let the stupid bastard die. But that would've meant she failed.

And she didn't like failure.

Felicienne clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. Oh, how wonderful it had been to be accosted by one's dead family members. She was pretty sure the little dandy's mother had been there as well. Not that she could blame the old bat; her own son _did_ work out a deal with the Dark Brotherhood that involved the exchange of her death for his life.

That must have really chafed at her when she found out.

She flopped down on a bed in her room at The Oak and Crosier. Talasma may be a snob, but at least she had comfortable rooms. For a very reasonable price as well. She was afraid if she'd stayed at The Grey Mare after dropping Motierre off, she'd be tempted to kill him just for putting her in the precarious position she'd been in.

She would need to head back to Cheydinhal in the morning to collect her reward from Vicente…and she'd better be getting that promotion. Not that she could do anything about it if she wasn't advanced. She sighed, brining her arms behind her head. She hoped Lucien would be gone by the time shot got back into Cheydinhal; every time he was around, everyone acted differently. It wasn't as if she didn't like the man, but he confused her a great deal. And with his presence around, life in the Sanctuary always became a bit more difficult for her; Teinaava, Ocheeva, Telaendril, and Antoinetta were _much_ more eager to please; Gogron's attitude quieted down, and M'raaj-dar simply ignored her existence. She supposed that was a nice change from his insults. The only one who seemed unaffected was Vicente, and Felicienne assumed that was because the vampire knew Lucien _before_ he became Speaker.

Even _she_ acted different when the Speaker was around. She was more jumpy, and a bit more paranoid. She felt like someone was watching her whenever he was around. It didn't settle well with her. Felicienne turned over on her side and tried to settle in for the night; it was already quite late and she'd need to be awake early in the morning if she was going to arrive in Cheydinhal at a decent hour. Although it wasn't as if anyone there kept a 'normal' schedule. Typically, anyone could be found awake at anytime during the day.

Maybe she'd let herself sleep in a bit.

…

Sleep in a bit? Right, next time she thought something like that, she'd pay someone to slap some sense back into her. She hadn't realized she'd slept so long until she'd peaked out her window and noticed the sun high in the sky.

'Oh gods,' she thought. 'I need to get back to Cheydinhal. I _wish_ Cyrodiil had public transport like High Rock does. Or maybe that I'd taken Prior Maborel's horse…it isn't like _he'll_ need it anymore.'

She sighed, maybe if she could find a traveling merchant who was heading to Cheydinhal, she could convince them to let her join them. She'd pay them the rest of her gold, if need be. It wasn't like she wouldn't be getting more as soon as she took care of her business in the Sanctuary.

Fortunately for her, she'd been able to find an Imperial man traveling on business named Drusus Augustus. Having blonde hair and blue eyes, and a larger build than most Imperial's she'd come across; he could have easily passed for a Nord. After speaking to him for a brief while, she'd learned he originally hailed from Skingrad, was invested in Tamika's vineyards, and had several smaller business ventures throughout Cyrodiil. But more importantly; he had a carriage and was willing to let her travel with him to Cheydinhal. She offered to pay him gold if he wanted some sort of reimbursement, but he'd told her that he didn't need the money, and it was no inconvenience to him; he welcomed the company, even if it was only for a day.

Felicienne wasn't entirely keen on not paying the man; she couldn't be sure he wasn't expecting some other sort of 'compensation'. So she'd merely told him if he tried any 'funny-business' with her, she'd have to thrash him. He just laughed and held his hands up, replying he was nothing if not a gentleman and that no harm would befall her.

She sniffed and climbed into his carriage, "I don't need you to protect me. I'm just warning you that if you do try anything funny, don't expect to have children in your future. If you'll even have one."

He climbed in after her and started the horse moving before he reassured her. "You have my word," he laughed.

The girl just looked off at the countryside as they drove away.

…

"Hey," someone whispered while they shook her.

Felicienne woke with a start, eyes wide and panicked.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you, I just wanted to let you know we're in Cheydinhal," Drusus told her.

She looked around blearily, she hadn't even been aware she'd fallen asleep. She could see it was dark out, but with the stable hand still tending to the horses at Black Waterside Stables, it couldn't have been very late.

"That didn't take as much time as I'd thought it would," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Nope," he smiled. "I suppose this is where we take our leave of each other. You do have accommodations, don't you?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I do. I'll be fine," she replied, absently as she stepped out of the carriage. "Thank you for the ride; it would've taken me an age to travel by foot. I hope I didn't put you out, any."

"Don't worry about it. You didn't put me out at all; I told you I was traveling to Cheydinhal anyway. Goodbye, miss."

"Goodbye, Mr. Augustus."

With a wave, the man climbed out of the coach and greeted the stable hand.

As Felicienne made her way to the Sanctuary, she began to fervently wish that Lucien had taken his leave. She felt terrible for thinking that way; after all, it was Lucien who'd invited her to join the Sanctuary. In a sense, he'd given her a surrogate family, taken her in when she really had no place else to go…unless you counted the realm of the Madgod. But that wasn't exactly the most ideal of places. And being adored all the time was really quite frightening.

It was just…she wished everyone would stop acting so different every time the Speaker came around. Perhaps she was being unfair to lay all the blame on Lachance's shoulders. His visits would be more pleasant if _Antoinetta_ didn't go stupid every time he was around. 'And,' she thought, now feeling a tad guilty. 'He is always so very kind to me…although he teases me more than I like.' She huffed as she walked through the small maze that was the entrance to the Sanctuary.

She pushed the door open and was a little relieved to see the main hall was empty, save for the skeleton guardian, of course. She headed to Vicente's quarters to alert him she'd completed the task (as painful as it was) and hopefully receive her reward. So she was surprised when she couldn't find Vicente or Ocheeva in their quarters. 'I guess I'll try the living quarters,' she mused.

When she arrived, she was a little surprised to see _everyone_ sitting at the dining table; everyone from Lucien Lachance to Telaendril, who also spent quite a bit of time away from the Sanctuary.

"You're just in time for dinner, sweet sister!" Telaendril greeted, sounding a bit forced. Not to mention, looking a bit green around the gills.

"I cooked," Antoinetta stated, dishing out helpings to everyone.

'Ah,' Felicienne thought uselessly. 'That would certainly explain why everyone appears a tad nervous…even Lucien.' As she glanced around the table while settling herself in, she noticed Vicente looking dubious at the sight of his food. Then Felicienne remembered Antoinetta's penchant for cooking with garlic. No wonder he looked paranoid. The girl had a feeling it was something Antoinetta did on purpose; she wondered what the older woman had against Vicente.

When Antoinetta gave Felicienne her dish, the girl looked around for Schemer, hoping to find him nearby. Whatever it was that Antoinetta made, she'd made sure it didn't have any meat in it, so Felicienne couldn't use _that_ as an excuse. It looked like it was a type of rice dish…but with that woman's cooking you could never be too sure. She noted everyone else was picking at their food, and Vicente looked as if he might pass out. Felicienne leaned closer to her dish and sniffed.

'I was right…there's garlic in here,' she noted. 'Where is that rat? He knows I always feed him table scraps when Antoinetta cooks! Now what am I going to do?'

That was when Antoinetta chose to announce she'd had to lock Schemer out; because for some reason, when she began cooking, he became antsy and was trying to hover around the pot she was preparing their meal in.

'Well, I guess I wasn't the only one who fed Schemer,' she thought to herself grumpily.

Telaendril looked over at the younger girl while Antoinetta was chatting away happily, seemingly unknowing of everyone else's inner turmoil. Felicienne was taking more drinks with her dinner than she usually did…she was taking a sip after every bite. The wood elf snorted softly; it was probably to wash out the taste of the food. She wasn't exactly sure what the blonde Breton did to whatever she cooked, but it was _always _horrid.

It wasn't that she didn't try; she just didn't appear to have a knack for cooking. She was a good assassin; but her doing anything 'domestic' was asking for potential disaster. The only people who were actually eating their food, besides Felicienne, was Gogron, who in all fairness could eat _anything_, and Lucien.

And didn't _that_ just tickle Antoinetta? The girl was just grinning like an idiot, cheeks flushed with colour, and she _giggled_ every so often as she engaged the Speaker in conversation. Telaendril glanced at Felicienne and saw her rolling her eyes at the blonde.

'Hmm, could she be jealous?' Telaendril thought amusedly. Then as soon as she thought it, she dismissed the notion. She didn't think Felicienne harboured any ill feeling towards Antoinetta what so ever. It was clear she adored the woman.

That adoration did not extend to the woman's cooking, however, if the girl's occasional grimaces were anything to go by.

Telaendril choked down another bite of food, if only to be kind, as everyone announced they were 'full'. Felicienne jumped up and exclaimed she'd do the dishes and everyone else could just 'relax, or do whatever it is they normally did'.

Antoinetta smiled, "You never volunteer for dishes; what's the special occasion?"

The younger girl faltered a bit before she replied, "It's just that you were so nice to prepare us dinner," she was cut off by a comment from Vicente saying something about Antoinetta trying to kill them all, which resulted in a barely concealed snort of laughter from Lucien. Felicienne narrowed her eyes at them before continuing with a smile, "I thought I'd do something nice and clean up for everyone."

Telaendril didn't buy that excuse; it was a well known fact in the Sanctuary that Felicienne _hated_ cleaning the dishes, especially if she wasn't the one to dirty them. Apparently Telaendril wasn't alone in her suspicions, since she saw Ocheeva raise an eyebrow at that as well.

"Why don't I help you?" the wood elf suggested, grinning as she waited to see what Felicienne would do.

Felicienne's smile faltered, but apparently resigned herself to the fact Telaendril would not take no for an answer, she conceded.

Vicente turned to the younger girl and told her, "Come see me after you've finished, then. We still need to talk about your contract and promotion. Don't take too long."

Then he, along with the others, left the living quarters and the two women to clean up after dinner.

Telaendril gave Felicienne a sideways glance and grin, "Now tell me the real reason why you wanted to do dishes."

"Oh, alright," she groused. "Since you're already on to me…I didn't want anyone, especially Antoinetta, finding out that I was spitting my food into my cup! Are you happy now you nosy Elf?" She was blushed and crossed her arms in a huff, sulking.

Telaendril thought back to how much Felicienne had been drinking at dinner, then leaned her head down on the table as her shoulders shook with laughter.

…

As Felicienne stepped out of Vicente's chambers, she was grinning ear to ear. She thought she probably looked moronic, or possibly homicidal, but she couldn't help herself; she was now an Eliminator! She'd now be receiving contracts from Ocheeva. She was surprised by how much she was excited for her new position. She supposed it was, at least in part, a reflection of her skills. And, as most people knew by now, Felicienne liked to be good at anything and everything she did.

The first person Felicienne wanted to seek out was Antoinetta; she always went to her with good news first. However, when she found Antoinetta, she wasn't alone; she and the Speaker were conversing with each other in a corner of the main room. Her face fell; she supposed she'd have to wait to tell Antoinetta.

This was probably the main, unfailing reason why Felicienne didn't like the Speaker visiting so often; she lost her friend whenever he came by.

Seeing Antoinetta was occupied and obviously not planning on going anywhere, Felicienne decided to go to the training room. Maybe she could get some spell practice in…that is, if M'raaj-dar wasn't hogging the target.

On her way, she ran into Telaendril and Gogron talking in hushed tones, with the wood elf laughing softly every so often.

Gogron happened to look up and see Felicienne passing them and called out.

"Oh, sister! I just heard the good news from Vicente! Congratulations on making Eliminator!"

"Thank you," she said, plastering on a happy expression. Her eyes went wide when she felt the Orc pull her into a bone-crushing hug. She tried to cry out but she'd had the wind knocked out of her, instead what came out was a strangled squeak. She would have sworn she felt a couple ribs crack.

"Gogron! You need to let go of her! You'll crush her; remember what Ocheeva told you?" came Telaendril's concerned voice.

Gogron backed away from Felicienne with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, kid. I forget my own strength."

Felicienne was doubled over, but managed to rasp a reply as she continued to take deep breaths. "Its fine, Gogron. It wasn't like you meant any harm." She righted herself, rubbing her ribs vaguely. She felt a smaller hand pat her shoulder comfortingly.

"Good work getting that promotion," Telaendril said, smiling widely. "It isn't easy advancing as fast as you have so far."

Felicienne shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the praise, and then looked up slightly at the Bosmer. She lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, "When do you think Mr. Lachance will be going back to…wherever it is he goes when he's not here?"

Telaendril whispered something to Gogron which resulted in him making some excuse to leave before she continued with Felicienne. She settled her arm around Felicienne's shoulders and stated, "Probably tonight. Why? You should be glad our Speaker was here when you got your promotion…"

"It's not him," the girl interrupted. "It's just that…Antoinetta goes absolutely stupid over his visits! No one else here is nearly as bad! Do…do you think she'll be mad I was promoted before her? She's been here longer than I have…"

"She won't be upset. She'll be happy for you," the older woman reassured her. "I think if anything she's a bit jealous that Lucien's been watching you as closely as he has."

Felicienne just shrugged and moved away from Telaendril. "Well, I don't mean to be rude, but I think I'm going to go for a bit of a walk around town. I think I could use the fresh air." She didn't feel like training anymore, or hanging around the Sanctuary.

Not even thinking, Telaendril called out, "Take a cloak, its cold outside."

The girl rolled her eyes, "Yes, mother."

…

Antoinetta glanced away from Lucien long enough to see Felicienne walking out of the Sanctuary, using the well exit.

Apparently, Lucien had also noticed.

"It looks like Vicente gave her the well key," he said.

Antoinetta nodded, she didn't want to talk about Felicienne right now…she just wanted to enjoy being able to talk with Lucien…_alone_. She'd admit to feeling a little…bitter, towards the younger girl. It seemed that Lucien had taken quite a liking to her. From what she'd over heard from Vicente and Ocheeva, he'd been inquiring more often about her progress. She knew her feelings stemmed from jealousy; Lucien seemed quite enamoured with the newest member…or at least as enamoured as he would let himself appear.

She knew it wasn't all jealousy, however. There was a part, a much smaller part, which was more concerned for _Felicienne_. The girl was very young, younger than Antoinetta, and before Felicienne had come to the Sanctuary, _she'd_ been the youngest member. She supposed she worried Felicienne didn't quite understand what was going on; she'd made it very plain she was naïve at best.

But her most dominate feeling was that of envy. It was easier to ignore when Lucien wasn't around; she could just spend time with the girl and really enjoy her company. But when their Speaker arrived, she almost felt forced to compare herself to the girl. After all, she'd seen how Lucien looked at Felicienne. She was older, Felicienne was only nineteen; she had shorter, blonde hair, Felicienne had long, black hair; she had hazel eyes, Felicienne had dark, wide blue eyes. And Felicienne still had that 'glow' of youth; her cheeks and lips were almost permanently infused with colour, a stark contrast to the normal paleness of her skin, whereas Antoinetta, again, was older and needed to rely on cosmetics more than someone younger.

She fought the urge to huff in a self-deprecating manner; after all, it wasn't like she was alone right now. She did feel badly for being so petty with the younger girl; she did truly adore her. But she loved Lucien, and nothing was going to come in between that.

Not even sweet, young girls who had no idea what was going on.

With that thought in mind, Antoinetta turned her attention back to Lucien, placed a beautiful smile on her face, and continued chatting with him.

…

As Felicienne shivered and tried to rush back to the Sanctuary with out drawing to much attention to herself, she realized going for a walk late at night, in _Frostfall_, was a bad idea.

Especially since in began to rain ten minutes ago…she'd only been able to walk for _fifteen_ before the damn rain set in. Now she just wanted to get back home and change out of her, now, extremely wet clothing, and go to bed.

She climbed down the well into the main living quarters to find most people gone…except for Lachance who was sitting in the darkened corner Teinaava usually sat in, reading a rather lengthy-looking tome.

"I thought you'd be gone," she murmured, only half aware she'd spoken her thoughts out loud. He looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow.

"Eager to have me gone?" he questioned.

"Er, no," she stumbled. "I guess I just assumed you'd have other things to do…you know, more important things…" she let herself trail off.

A ghost of a smile flitted on his face briefly, before he replied. "I will be leaving soon, I just wanted to make sure it was late enough I wouldn't have any difficulties leaving Cheydinhal. It wouldn't do to have any busy bodies snooping around, now would it?"

She flushed and looked down, "No, I suppose it wouldn't."

"You should change your clothes," he added softly.

"Heh, yeah," she laughed. "Rain caught me by surprise. Probably should've been paying more attention earlier when I saw the sky begin to cloud over." She rubbed her hands together in a vain attempt to warm them, "Well, I suppose I'll be getting to bed, then." The smile on her face strained a bit as she added, seemingly as an afterthought, "Good night, Mr. Lachance."

"Sleep well."

…

Felicienne wasn't sure what time it was when she awoke the next day. She felt like it must be later, but she had no way of knowing for certain unless she went outside. As she stretched out, she thought about going to receive a contract from Ocheeva; after all, it wasn't like Martin needed her back at Cloud Ruler anytime soon.

'Some vacation,' she thought wryly. Most people use their vacation time to relax; Felicienne used hers to only live _one_ life at a time. As she let her mind wander, she began to worry about how things might have been going in New Sheoth. It'd been nearly a month since she was last there, and she should probably visit soon. After all, it was _her _Realm now; what kind of Madgod would she be if she didn't maintain her rule there every once in a while. Besides, those Heretics had been getting a little too confident in themselves the last time she'd been there.

She'd need to send in some Aureals to deal with some of their camps when she got back.

The last thing she needed was for either Hale or Highcross to be attacked by _those_ raving lunatics, (and wasn't it ironic that it was the 'Madgod' herself calling _anyone_ a raving lunatic?)

She sighed, "So much for living one life at a time…"

"Did you say something?"

Felicienne started a bit, "Damn it, Antoinetta! I didn't know you were there, you surprised me!"

The older woman let out a laugh as she walked over to Felicienne's bed and looked down at the girl. "What are you mumbling about to yourself over here?"

"I'm just thinking, I guess I was thinking out loud, though. I'm sorry if I bothered you," she pouted.

Antoinetta shook her head and pulled Felicienne out of bed, ignoring the girl's protests of not being ready to get up yet. "So, what are your plans for today?" the woman asked, feeling badly for blowing off Felicienne for the past few days.

The girl popped her neck as she answered, "I was thinking of head down to Bravil or Leyawin, and maybe staying there a few nights, before heading back up here for another contract."

"You're leaving again? You just got back yesterday," the blonde said. Was that disappointment? "You travel an awful lot," she noted.

Felicienne shrugged her shoulders. "Wanderlust," she stated. "I like being able to travel. I wasn't really able to do much of it back home. Mother and Father wanted me home. They wanted me to join the Mages' Guild like my brother had, and eventually settle down with a nice man I met there and have a litter of children," she said lightly. "That didn't really work out, I guess." She smiled as she thought of how her mother would react if she knew what her daughter was doing now. Then she looked up, a thoughtful expression on her face, "Antoinetta? How did you come to be here? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine," Antoinetta assured her young friend. "I ran away from home when I was much younger. A bit younger than you, actually. I used to live in the city of Wayrest, but I was dissatisfied at home; my family wasn't nearly as wonderful as yours seem to have been. I lived in Hammerfell for a time, where I then stowed away on a slave ship. That's how I got into Cyrodiil, but as I had no money or food, I was bound to get into trouble just trying to survive. Suffice it to say, I wound up in the Imperial City Prison…it was _horrible_ there. The guards are so cruel…" she trailed off, looking away. Felicienne wanted to hug her, but before she could, Antoinetta seemed to turn back into her old self. She looked back at the girl and smiled, "After I was released, that's when Lucien found me; I had gone to prison for murder, but since it was just another beggar, the sentence wasn't as harsh as it could have been."

Felicienne found she couldn't say much, so she just nodded. She knew Antoinetta was leaving out quite a bit to her story, but she didn't feel she should press for more details. If Antoinetta felt like telling her more, she would. But she wouldn't pry. Felicienne let out a soft sigh, she supposed she shouldn't take it so badly that Antoinetta was so preoccupied with Lachance, especially hearing this, albeit abridged, story of her life. It made it easier to understand Antoinetta's feelings towards that man.

"Well," the girl began. "_I'm_ glad he found you. If he hadn't, I never would have known you." She smiled at the woman and hugged her. "Now, if I'm to head to Bravil, I need to leave soon, I'm sure."

"You're probably right, it's about noon," the blonde informed Felicienne. She smiled when she saw the girl's eyes widen in shock.

"Noon? I slept too much; I should have woken up earlier. Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" Felicienne accused, even as she said the words she understood how ridiculous she sounded.

"I wasn't aware you wanted me too," Antoinetta grinned. "I'll tell you what, since it was _so_ insensitive of me to not wake you up, I'll help you get your things together."

Felicienne rolled her eyes, "Well, I suppose that'll have to do. Just don't let it happen again." Right after she said that, both women collapsed into giggles.

'Maybe everything will be alright,' Felicienne thought as she started changing clothes, getting ready to head back to her Realm for the time being.

…

**A/N: There it is, chapter eight…I'll be honest; I don't love it. That might just be me being insecure; I can't help but feel like it's a filler chapter. Which I guess they're necessary, but still…it's nearly 11 pages…of filling. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, the next one will be better, I **_**swear**_**! It takes place in the Shivering Isles! How can in **_**not**_** be better? And yeah, there's another OC…I needed a traveling person! I'm sorry! I hope he's not irritating…if Oblivion had had public transport, it wouldn't have been an issue. Don't worry, he's not going to dominate the story ^_^. I would never do that to you readers.**


	9. Of Dreams and Nightmares

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **I think we all know the answer to this by now.

**Summary:** Just see the first chapter ^_^

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Chapter IX: Of Dreams and Nightmares

New Sheoth hadn't changed all that much since Felicienne was last there; the Flame of Agnon burned over the Sacellum for Dementia, the districts were still with out their respective duchies…

"Stop him! He stole my Calming Pants!"

…and the citizens were still as mad as ever.

Felicienne saw someone running away from 'Things Found' and heading towards the gate to Bliss, of which she had the misfortune of being in front of. As the thief neared her, she reached out and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt before he could pass her completely. She sighed when she recognized him.

"Fimmion," she began, glaring at the beggar. "You told me that if I gave you a sweet roll, Ahjazda could have the Calming Pants. And now I come back to find you stealing them?"

The wood elf looked down, "Fimmion is sorry, Lord. Please don't send Fimmion to Aichan. Fimmion is just cold; Fimmion would like his pants back."

She sighed, "You need to give the Pants back to Ahjazda, otherwise the Seducers will get involved and they won't go easy on you. They'll put you in Corpserot since you'd be arrested here, in Crucible." Felicienne went through her back and pulled out a few gold pieces. "If you promise not to steal again, I'll give you these coins so you can buy another pair of pants and maybe even a sweet roll. Alright?"

Fimmion's ears perked up at the mention of food. "Sweet roll? Maybe…two sweet rolls? Fimmion is soooo hungry. SA-WHEEEEEET ROLLL!"

Felicienne rolled her eyes, "Yes, yes! You can have two sweet rolls Fimmion, and a pair of pants. But that's _if_ you return Ahjazda's Pants to her. _Now._"

"Yes, Fimmion will return the cat's Pants back to her, and then Sheogorath will give Fimmion his own pants and sweet rolls!" and before Felicienne could correct the Bosmer, he ran off back to 'Things Found'.

"Hey! I said I'll give you _money_ so you could _buy_ them!" she called out after him. She slumped against the city wall in defeat. "I'll just give him the coins and he can do with them as he pleases."

She didn't have to wait long before Fimmion came back, and Felicienne had to, again, explain that she was giving Fimmion coins so _he_ could buy his trousers and sweet rolls. And if there was any money left over, he was allowed to keep it.

"Now go back to Bliss, and don't take things that don't belong to you!" she scolded as he started to scamper away.

"Thank you, Lord Sheogorath! Sheogorath is as merciful as He is wise," the beggar praised as he ran off.

'I'm a woman…' she thought when she realized he called her a 'he'. Apparently, since she defeated Jyggalag, the residents of the Shivering Isles seemed to think she actually _was_ Sheogorath. The old one. Well, everyone except Haskill, but she suspected that that was because he was actually there when she assumed power. She snorted; it had been Haskill who'd helped her do it. If it hadn't been for Haskill, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to kill Jyggalag. As it was, she was still convinced that it was just an insane stroke of luck on her part.

Even the Mazken and Aureal seemed to think she was the same Sheogorath they'd served under before. Perhaps they all thought that Sheogorath just assumed a different form.

She shook her head as she started to walk towards the palace; she wondered if Haskill would be mad at her for being gone so long. Not that he'd act differently than he usually did; he always seemed annoyed or irritated at something.

When she arrived in the courtyard to New Sheoth Palace, she gazed up at the stairs miserably…there was always so much _walking_. Up the stairs, down the stairs…they should have a teleportation pad installed. The Mages' Guild had one, why couldn't they?

'That'll be my next decree,' she mused. 'We're putting in a pad and that's final. I don't care if Haskill will think it'll pose a security threat…who's going to attack? The Heretics? The Golden Saints would have them neutralized before they even made it to Bliss. And if they somehow decided attacking from Dementia was a better plan…well, I don't even want to think about what the Seducers would do to them.'

"Welcome back, Lord Sheogorath!" one of the Aureal guards greeted. She nodded to the Daedra and continued up the steps. When she arrived at the top, she wondered which door she should go through. After all, there were _two._ Hoping the Mazken wouldn't take it as an insult; she entered through the side of Mania. Now, she needed to speak with her chamberlain and see if there was anything here that required her immediate attention that had come up while she was away.

She hoped there wasn't.

Although, if there was, after she dealt with it her 'subjects' would send her a tribute. She'd be able to replace the potions she broke when she dropped her satchel at Cloud Ruler. Which she'd need to do anyway…especially considering how mediocre her healing spells were.

It was then as she began walking up to Haskill that she remembered she could actually summon him; she was still getting used to this whole 'Madgod' business. She shook her head at herself, and then yelled, "Hello, Haskill! Anything I should be worried about?"

The man shook his head, still sporting his ever-dour expression as he replied, "No, it's seems as if all is peaceful in the Shivering Isles. Will wonders ever cease?"

It didn't seem to matter how cheerful she was, or how nice she was; he was always rather acerbic. The most she'd ever gotten out of him was a small grin before it quickly shifted back to his normal frown.

"You're such a ray of sunshine, Haskill," she muttered, pointedly. Truthfully, she liked Haskill; he was the only one here who didn't fawn all over her.

"I do live to serve, my Lord. Oh, and by the way, You _have_ received a letter from Relmyna Verenim while you were away…You do remember her, don't You?"

Felicienne sighed. Of course she remembered Relmyna; the ex-mage who built the Gatekeeper, who enjoyed torturing people in the name of research…and let's not forget, she was now slightly obsessed with the new Madgod.

She took the sealed letter from Haskill, walked over to her throne, and sat down to read it:

_My Beloved Sheogorath,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, I do miss you terribly. I know your duties keep you busy, but any message from you would be welcome; even if it needs to be delivered by that fool, Haskill._

_You'd be so proud of our child. Whenever I visit him in the Fringe, I always find the fresh corpses of irritating adventurers who've come seeking glory. Pests. They always look like they've died quite painfully, if the state of their remains is anything to go by. Sometimes, though, I wish that he'd leave one or two alive, so I may have some new test subjects; the ones I have here are becoming tedious. They're bodies are nearly worn out from the constant revival I must put them through. I fear they may be tainting my experiments._

_Enough about that though, I'm sure you have much more to do than to listen to my petty problems._

_If it is not to forward of me, (and I understand you have many duties), I would very much like for you to visit me in Xaselm. If only for a few moments. _

_Yours Eternally,_

_Relmyna_

Felicienne looked over to Haskill in askance. "So…do you think I should go?"

"I would never presume to tell You what You should or should not do, my Lord."

She gave him a sideways glance before she tried again, "I know that, Haskill. I would just like your opinion on the matter."

"My opinion on the matter is not relevant, Lord."

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" she muttered. She let out a long sigh, "I guess it can't hurt to go see what she wants…other than to see me-er, Sheogorath. This is getting confusing. I'll go to Xaselm tomorrow."

"That is Your prerogative, my Lord."

Felicienne buried her face in her hands and screamed.

* * *

The Madgod decided to take a bit of a walk in the Fountainhead underneath the palace before she went to bed. At first, when Haskill and told her Sheogorath had spent many hours doing the same thing, she'd thought it strange. But after being able to walk around the Fountainhead with out having to worry about the Knights or Priests of Order, she found it quite enjoyable.

She typically walked around the Pool of Dementia; it suited her darker moods, which was why she felt the need to go on a walk. Back in Cyrodiil she couldn't really go on a walk to relax, especially since the roads had become increasingly more dangerous. There was even talk about Oblivion Gates opening up all over the province. But here…here she could walk around, with out any fear of Daedra, Gates…or being followed.

She wasn't sure why, but there were times when she'd be carrying on as she usually did, that she felt she was being watched. And that feeling never settled well with her. While she was in the Shivering Isles, she knew if she wanted to be alone, she'd be alone. Her thoughts were her own here.

She began walking up the stairs to the little sitting area that was near the pool. She'd been walking around for roughly three hours, barefoot, so she welcomed the break. Her feet and legs were wet with the water from the Demented pool, and she couldn't be bothered to dry off. Besides, it was almost a pleasant temperature in the cave.

As she sat down in a plush dining chair, she felt sleep begin to tug at her eyes. She fought her exhaustion, at first, but soon let herself slump over and fall asleep.

"_What have you been doing, Puppet?"_

_Felicienne looked around, not recognizing where she was. A small home, it looked like. It was very cold, she could feel herself shivering. She looked in front of her; there was a woman…she was tall…possibly an Altmer. It has hard to tell; she was wearing a hood that obscured her face. She could see the woman wasn't alone; it looked as if she had two…no, three other companions…and there was something else, something behind her…_

_The woman seemed to understand what it was Felicienne was trying to see. She smiled and told her in, what she assumed, was supposed to be a reassuring tone, "You don't need to worry about _that_ anymore. We've taken care of the situation."_

_A shrouded man then turned to her and gave her an eerie smile, "You're like a gift from the Night Mother…so beautiful…"_

_Then she was assaulted by a foul smell; the stench was so strong Felicienne had to fight the urge to vomit. It was like the odor that lingered in her former home…but so much stronger. The sound of flies buzzing about nearly deafened her as she walked through the hellish maze. _

_There were words, then. Words that originated from nowhere, but seemed to reverberate all around her:_

"_It's almost over…I promise…as you lie the dark man comes and makes you die…_

_When in the snow I like to lie and fold my arms and wait to die."_

…_**killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim…**_

_She looked around for a possible exit, but it seemed as if she were trapped…_

_In the next instant, she was outside…it was dark out, and balmy. Despite the moderate temperature, she could feel icy tendrils crawling up her spine…a presence that was curiously familiar…_

'_It's so cold…' she thought, terror gripping at her heart. 'Why? Why am I so afraid?' _

_She tried to steady her breathing until she felt harsh hands grab her arms roughly._

"_I thought I could get here in time...I thought I could stop you!" a man screamed at her. "What madness has claimed you? You've betrayed us!"_

"_Let go! You're hurting me!" she cried as she struggled to free herself. _

"_I trusted you! I put all my faith in you…since the very beginning…and you betrayed me!" he shouted as his grip on her tightened even more. But…it was curious…the man sounded rather pained as he spoke. His voice sounded so familiar…she looked up as he continued to accost her. It was…Lucien?_

"_Why?" he continued, looking wounded. How had she betrayed…anyone? What was happening? She wanted to wake up; she wanted to be away from this nightmare as soon as possible. The pressure on one of her arms lessened. Suddenly, she felt the steel of a sharp blade press at her throat. If she continued to thrash about, it would wind up slitting her throat. _

"_I'm here to end your miserable life, to…"_

"_Please stop! What's going on?" she pleaded. Was he really going to kill her? What could she have done to warrant this…? She felt herself whimper in terror as he pressed the knife closer…_

_His expression softened, and he brought his blade down. "You…have no idea what I'm talking about…do you?"_

_A message came to her in her fear, unbidden and indecipherable:_

_!eid lliw ecnahcaL neicuL_

Felicienne jolted awake, her hand flying to her throat. She desperately tried to recall the last thing she saw…but already the image was eluding her, slipping away from her mind in her wakefulness.

She did remember Lachance's face, _and wasn't it curious how she referred to him freely as Lucien in her dream but she couldn't seem to do so while awake_, and how angry he was. And how…frightened he seemed to be. She may not have known the Speaker well, but she had a feeling he wasn't someone who scared easily.

She shook herself, as if she were trying to dislodge the very impression of her dream from her head. She did not want to think; she had too much to do already. However, she would cut her visit to the Shivering Isles short; she would stay until tomorrow, and after she visited Relmyna Verenim, she would return to Cheydinhal. And hopefully everything would be as she left it.

Sometimes…it felt as if this place did strange things to her. Perhaps being around all of this insanity was leaving an imprint on her…or…maybe she was wrong to throw her lot in with Dementia.

But what ever it was, she would not be sleeping down _here_ anymore…that was for certain.

* * *

Unable to fall back asleep, even in the Duchess' quarters in the House of Dementia, Felicienne took a walk around New Sheoth. Wandering around, she made her way to the Sacellum of Arden-Sul, hoping she'd be able to wear herself out.

Walking into the chapel since she lit the Flame for Dementia was a tad…creepy, for lack of a better term. There was a purple rug and ran down the middle of the aisle, and bloodstains on the wooden floor. And if you looked up from the bloodstains, you'd see several bodies hanging upside down. She supposed they had something to do with the sermons that Arctus was so fond of.

"Listen not to the blasphemous Manics; their minds are clouded by alcohol and Greenmote! They would have you _talk_ your enemies to death; reciting poems and useless soliloquies to them. They are too wrapped up in their self-indulgences to see what is going on behind their backs…"

Felicienne sat down in a worship pew and just listened to Arctus' sermon, which just seemed to consist of new and inventive ways of torturing people. At least it wasn't Dervenin; everything he said tended to be a little too…flowery, for her tastes.

As she listened, her mind began to drift back over her dream. She tried to remember specific details about what she'd seen, but she was having a hard time recalling them. She could remember fear, and a smell…like something had died.

'_**killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim…'**_

She shivered as the thought came to her against her will. 'Kill who?' she thought, rubbing her hands together in a futile attempt to warm them. It seemed that since she received that particular dream, a perpetual chill had taken hold of her.

She remembered snow…and a cottage. There were people, but she didn't recognize any of them. Not until the next scene in her dream...she knew her attacker was Lachance. He'd looked so angry, but she had no idea what had rattled him so. She began to fiddle with her shirt as she continued to probe her mind for information.

She slumped against the back of the pew; there was a chance that the dream was just rubbish. It wasn't as if she was a known clairvoyant. In fact, the only person that she knew of in her family who had visions was her uncle. And that little 'gift' was what most people speculated made her mother's brother kill himself.

If it was a vision, there was little she could do about it; besides wait for the circumstances to present themselves…

'_**killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim…'**_

Another shudder; for some reason, this line stuck out the most to her. That, and the smell. That awful stench that reminded you of a butchers' shop; the stale scent of blood and flesh; and a disembodied voice carrying strange messages into her mind.

She sighed; these thoughts would be better for another day. Right now, she needed to put it out of her mind before she met with Relmyna tomorrow.

* * *

The way to Xaselm hadn't been all that bad in its entirety. Sure, there were a couple rough spots…mostly caused by a few grummites and baliwogs, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Fortunately she was able to access Relmyna's 'home' from the back entrance, and she didn't have to deal with her little 'guardians' that ran amok in the front.

While she was sitting in Relmyna's experiment chambers, her mind kept wandering to the previous night as Relmyna prattled on about the pros and cons of 'exchanging' a starved hunger's blood with an Elf maiden's blood. Apparently, the hunger's draining spell was more potent, but its body was physically weaker and therefore died after only a few minutes.

It seemed as though Relmyna just wanted to visit with her; she was probably tired of only having Nanette for company. Unlike the other residents of the Shivering Isles; Relmyna, while still treating Felicienne like the old Sheogorath, seemed to retain the knowledge that Felicienne hadn't always been the Madgod. Perhaps the Dunmer saw Felicienne as an avatar of sorts.

In any case, it made speaking with Relmyna far easier than it was to speak to the other inhabitants of the Realm.

"Is there something on your mind, my Lord?" came the unusually soft voice of the ex-mage.

'She must have noticed me daydreaming,' the girl thought. She shook her head to dispel any concern the Dark Elf might have had and answered, "It's nothing, I'm just thinking about a dream I had last night."

"What sort of dream, if you don't mind me asking," the older woman questioned. She took a seat next to the young girl and placed a cautious hand on her knee. Felicienne was still so absorbed in her own thoughts she barely registered the feel of the hand through her purple gown.

"It felt like a premonition," she murmured softly. She could practically _hear_ her mother sobbing at the news. Everyone knew that clairvoyants fell into madness after only a few years. The visions would come with more and more frequency, they would be harder to block, and soon after that it would be impossible to do so. They would become more vivid and then the voices would start. That was what happened with her mother's little brother and Felicienne was afraid that it may also happen to her.

However, most seers started receiving visions before they reached their adolescence. Felicienne was an adult and had only one 'vision', and she couldn't even be sure to label it as such. Unfortunately, it looked as if she'd need to wait it out and see if it came true.

That idea didn't settle well with her.

She looked up again and saw Relmyna looking at her expectantly. Felicienne winced, the woman must have asked a question and she hadn't been paying attention.

"I apologize, Relmyna. My thoughts ran away with me again. What was it you asked?" Felicienne asked.

"I was just inquiring where you had this vision. While I was doing research with the Mages' Guild," and Felicienne noticed Relmyna stated that last part with a bit of a snarl, "one of the topics that had come up was the effects a certain area may have on psychics and their dreams. It was determined during the course of the research project that, while someone may not _actually_ be a seer, if they have any family history it's possible that if a place is imbued with enough magicka it can, in a sense, strengthen those recessive qualities and manifest prophetic dreams. However, the Mages' Guild put a stop to that project; they were afraid too many people would try to 'force' premonitions."

It was strange; that was possibly the most coherent, (and least sadistic), she'd ever heard Relmyna speak. Felicienne nodded absently as she mumbled that she'd had her dream in the Fountainhead underneath New Sheoth Palace. "Hmm," she started. "That place would have enough magick to force a vision, wouldn't it?"

"Of course it would! That's why you can recharge your staff at the Fountain behind your throne," Relmyna stated, sounding slightly impatient. Felicienne rubbed the back of her neck, feeling a little foolish now.

Really, she should have been able to think of that herself.

"Is it permanent?" she questioned, a little afraid of the answer. Not only would it be terribly inconvenient to receive visions uncontrollably, but she had no desire to fit in _that_ well with the people of the Shivering Isles.

"Hmm, it shouldn't be," the woman replied, slowly. "If you want any definitive answers, I'll need to perform some tests. That is, if you'll permit me access to the Fountainhead and allow me to bring around…four test subjects with me." The Dunmer had a lazy smirk forming on her face as she made her 'request'.

The way Relmyna said that made Felicienne uneasy, but what other choice did she have at this point. As it was, she needed to get back to Cyrodiil, _today_, and check in at the Sanctuary…she was probably going to regret this:

"How much time do you need?"

Relmyna's face brightened and her voice became almost…chipper, "A week, maybe two at the most! Oh, thank you Sheogorath!"

Felicienne sighed, "I need to leave, I probably won't be back in New Sheoth before your tests are completed, so take this ring," she handed the small piece of jewelry to the red-haired woman, "and show it to Haskill. He knows it's mine and tell him I've given you access to the Pools of Madness. He shouldn't give you any problems."

The girl stood up and made her way to the exit of Xaselm, wondering what kind of torment she doomed Relmyna's test subjects to for two whole weeks.

**

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A/N: Alright, finally; an update! I'm sorry this took so long, I tried to get this out in a timely manner, but it took much longer than expected. I struggled a bit with this chapter, but it's finally here. I hope you all enjoy this chapter ^_^ I also want to thank everyone who's either reviewed or put 'Vicissitudes' on their Story Alert, it really means a lot to me.


	10. Of Musings and Whispers

**Title: **Vicissitudes

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Does this really need to be reiterated?

**Summary:** Just see the first chapter ^_^

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Chapter X: Of Musings and Whispers

Felicienne decided; she did not like Bravil. The air was stagnant, the whole city was a dump, and it seemed quite a few of the residents spent some time at the skooma den. Not to mention the mosquitoes. Oh, the many, many mosquitoes. She was surprised she hadn't caught anything yet.

However, this was the closest city that had places to sleep and food to eat. Even though it was only evening, Felicienne was worn out. She supposed going back and forth between dimensions like she was would do that to you. There was something else about Bravil that unsettled her, but she just couldn't put her finger on it.

As she headed towards 'The Lonely Suitor Lodge', she passed by the Lucky Old Lady statue. She noticed a Bosmer standing at the statue and felt a sense of déjà vu come over her…

"_**I thought I could get here in time...I thought I could stop you!"**_

She jumped slightly, brining the Wood Elf's attention to her. He simply glared at her before turning back to the statue.

She raised an eyebrow and muttered to herself, sarcastically, "Oh, I'm fine. Thank you for asking." She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It was probably nothing, she'd been to Bravil before, and it stood to reason she'd seen this scene before. Nothing out of the ordinary.

At least, that was what she was trying to convince herself of.

She sighed in frustration; she didn't want to dwell on her dream, but it seemed the more she tried to forget it, the more often snippets from the vision would present themselves. As she continued on her path to the inn, she felt a slight sting on her arm and quickly swatted it.

"Damn blood-suckers," she muttered, rubbing the spot on her arm where the mosquito bit. Then she smiled a bit after realizing what she said and added, "Sorry, Vicente."

The last thing she needed was to get sick. With whatever 'door' the Fountainhead opened up in her mind, who know what kind of strange, fever-induced hallucinations her brain would come up with.

She entered 'The Lonely Suitor Lodge' and checked in with the publican before she sat down at the bar and ordered a tankard of mead. She supposed she'd need to head back to Bruma after a little while as well. Martin may have already translated at least a _little_ bit of the Xarxes.

Felicienne slumped on the barstool she was sitting on, resting her head on the counter surface as she listened to the various conversations of other patrons around her. Something about this place made her feel uncomfortable, even though she'd been here before. However, that might have been because the last time she'd been here, some strange man had snuck into her room and offered her entrance to an assassin's guild.

But she supposed stranger things have happened.

Thinking about the Xarxes led Felicienne to thoughts about Oblivion, and what she might have to do after Martin was able to translate it all. She still wasn't entirely over her last trip into Mehrunes Dagon's nightmarish world.

For some reason now, though, the sight of the hanging, flayed corpses stuck out most in her mind. At first, she thought it was just because of the new 'décor' the Sacellum Arden Sul had acquired, but if she closed her eyes, she could see something similar in that little building she'd dreamt about. It was behind that tall woman…

Every time she tried to remember more detail, the dream would slip away from her. She would just need to be patient until she was able to talk to Relmyna again; there wasn't really anything she could do about it until then.

Right now, though, it was time for bed; it'd been a long day. She finished her mead and headed up the stairs, hoping she'd get some sleep tonight.

* * *

Unfortunately, Felicienne hadn't counted on the rain that evening. Normally, weather wouldn't be an issue…except for the fact that this inn wasn't exactly the most _kept_ building and the roof leaked…right over her bed. But for ten gold a night, you get what you pay for.

As another raindrop fell onto her forehead, Felicienne let out a growl of frustration. She was never going to get any sleep! She pulled her pillow over her head and sighed. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but it _was_ the driest one. After a few more minutes, Felicienne fell into an uneasy sleep.

She woke up again a few hours later, unsure of the reason. She looked around, but didn't see anything, and even the rain had tapered off to a light drizzle, so it couldn't have been the noise that woke her up. Felicienne sat up, and placed her damp pillow behind her.

"Is someone there?" she tried. Although, if someone _was_ in her room, she didn't think they'd admit to it readily. "If someone's there, I'll let you know I'm very awake now, so you better be good at waiting because it might be a while before I'm ready to go back to sleep so you can sneak out," she huffed, crossing her arms.

The girl rolled her eyes, "Don't be stupid, there's probably no one there, and you're just being paranoid. How many people do you know can find you _and_ stay unseen for long stretches of time?"

She wrinkled her nose as the dampness from her pillow began to soak through her clothing; it was obvious she wasn't going to be able to find rest so easily tonight. She got out of bed and packed the rest of her things, not that there was much to pack, as she left quite a few of her 'non-essential' items back in New Sheoth.

Still feeling a little suspicious, she grabbed her moist pillow and threw it towards the door. It hit the wall with a dull thud, and no interruption. Felicienne, seeing the results of her little test brought her hand up to her forehead and laughed at herself.

Shaking her head, she left her room with out further preamble, making sure she left a tip for the publican.

As she stepped back outside into the humid city, she noticed a dim red haze glowing over the city walls.

'Oh no…' she thought, at once recognizing the sight and the accompanying smell that wafted through the streets. She dashed over to the city gates and as she looked eastward and saw an Oblivion Gate jutting out into the Niben Bay.

"Great…that's just…great," she muttered. It wasn't exactly as if she could _ignore_ the Gate; not in good conscience, anyway.

Unsheathing Duskfang, she crept towards the Gate, keeping an eye out for any daedra that might be lurking around the portal. She wasn't disappointed; standing near the side facing the city, were two Flame Atronachs.

Felicienne tried to stay out of sight, but her frostbolt missed its target and before she knew it they were raining fireballs at her continuously. The only thing she could do was to keep recasting her shielding spell, which was admittedly fairly weak. When she was close enough to the first Atronach, she swung her heavy sword Duskfang towards the creature's neck, mortally wounding the daedra.

She turned her attention to the second Atronach, who seemed intent on charging at her. However, before the daedra could reach the girl, Felicienne tried her frostbolt again, and this time, managed to hit her target. The Atronach stumbled a bit, giving the Breton time to impale the demon with Duskfang.

Making sure no other daedra were around, Felicienne took some time to catch her breath and to drink a couple weaker health potions. When she felt better, she looked up at the Oblivion Gate, took a deep breath, and stepped in.

* * *

Life at the Cheydinhal Sanctuary was, at the moment, rather dull. Things had been rather quiet lately, and both Felicienne and Telaendril were gone. Antoinetta assumed they were away for different reasons. Most people in the Brotherhood didn't associate with each other outside of their respective sanctuaries for obvious reasons.

And honestly, it bothered her that she had no idea where either of her sisters were!

Sure, Felicienne _said_ she was heading to Bravil, but Antoinetta had a feeling she was up to something…_more_. Whenever she asked the young girl a question about what she got up to when she wasn't around the Sanctuary, the answer was always evasive. And Telaendril seemed to have a schedule; she was always away from the Sanctuary overnight on weekends and on Tirdas. Although, on Tirdas, Antoinetta could always find the Wood Elf somewhere around Cheydinhal.

Felicienne didn't appear to even _have_ a schedule; she just seemed to show up whenever she pleased. But Antoinetta couldn't help but wonder where the younger girl spent the rest of her time. She blamed it on her curious nature; of course, it was the same nature that usually led to her standing outside of Ocheeva's office when ever Lucien dropped by. She still held out hope of one day running the Cheydinhal Sanctuary…or perhaps becoming his Silencer! Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Antoinetta glanced at a calendar they had in the living quarters; Telaendril would probably be back later tonight, since it was Sundas. It'd be nice to have someone to chat with, Ocheeva didn't seem to like what she called 'idle chatter' and none of the men ever had any good gossip to share.

In fact, while she'd been listening in on one of Lucien and Ocheeva's conversations, she caught whispers of treachery. Over the past few years, several members of their family had been murdered, and no one knew who it might be. This news was obviously meant to be kept quiet, so Antoinetta didn't mention anything to anyone else…not even Felicienne, to whom she'd grown rather close.

Antoinetta began leafing through the cupboards for something to cook for tonight's dinner when Ocheeva came up behind her.

"Oh, don't worry about that, dear," the Argonian woman hastily said. "Vicente said he'd cook tonight's meal, he'll get started in about an hour."

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble, you know. I don't mind cooking for everyone," the blonde stated, looking perplexed. Everyone always went a bit funny whenever she would cook anything…especially Vicente.

"I know that, but you know how Vicente can be, sometimes. Likes his own way and all that," Ocheeva said dismissively. Although she and Antoinetta had their differences, she didn't have the heart to tell the girl no one liked her cooking. In fact, most of the residents of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary took great pains to make sure Antoinetta was left in the dark about her sub-par culinary skills.

"Well…if you're sure…" the blonde trailed off uncertainly. She bit her lip and spoke again. "Ocheeva, you've been acting a bit…strange lately. Is there something the matter?"

The Argonian looked around, her tail swishing in obvious anxiety before she answered.

"You've heard some of the rumours…correct? About some of our members being killed?" When Antoinetta nodded, Ocheeva continued. "I'm only telling you this because I _know_ I can trust you…don't tell anyone else what I'm about to tell you. Alright?"

Antoinetta nodded, waiting for Ocheeva to continue speaking.

"The Black Hand is beginning to suspect someone from the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, or at least someone who has ties with our Sanctuary of being responsible for the killings," Ocheeva sighed. "Lucien has been coming here to investigate the Sanctuary…he says the Black Hand can't afford any risks right now…I just cannot think that anyone here would do such a thing!"

In a sick way, Antoinetta felt relieved at the reason Ocheeva gave about why Lucien had been visiting more frequently; it meant he wasn't just here for Felicienne. Which, logically, she'd always known that. But she'd always been a bit irrational when it came to their Speaker. However, this news of the Black Hand's suspicion being on the Cheydinhal Sanctuary was very disturbing. If this issue wasn't resolved soon, drastic measures would be taken. The Black Hand wasn't known for their 'adventurous' streak.

Secrecy was everything. They were able to survive for hundreds of years because of it.

"I'm sure our Speaker will sort this mess out. He knows us better than anyone," Antoinetta stated, sounding hopeful. "I mean, he has known all of us ever since we came here…er, except for Vicente," the blonde woman finished with a laugh, scratching the back of her head. Ocheeva just shook her head at the other woman, but appeared to have calmed down a bit.

"Oh, I know. It's just that even imagining that there is suspicion on us is terrible," Ocheeva sighed, rubbing her forehead before looking up and smiling wearily. "Not to mention that, per Lucien's request, I've accumulated a great deal more paperwork."

This peaked Antoinetta's already insatiable curiosity. "Any reason why?"

"Now that, Slayer, is something I'm _not_ at liberty to discuss," the Argonian said as she began to walk away. But before she disappeared into her quarters, she called back behind her shoulder, "And Antoinetta? I know you've been snooping around my office whenever I'm in a conference!"

The Breton blushed furiously at her departing words.

* * *

The next day, Antoinetta found herself at 'Newlands Lodge', since she'd been "nominated" to go out into town to buy groceries. Why Telaendril couldn't have done it (since she could have easily have done so before she got back to the Sanctuary) she didn't know. As she perused the grocery list, she stifled a soft laugh at the first item, obviously written by Gogron:

_Beer, lots of beer_

Antoinetta hummed in contemplation; she should probably pick up some mead for Felicienne, since she always gagged on beer. Mead seemed to be her preference anyway. And maybe she'd get something a little sweeter for M'raaj-dar.

It didn't look like she needed to buy too many things this time. She stepped up to the counter and requested the items on her list. While she was waiting for Dervera to ring her items up, she leant back against the counter and let her thoughts wander to her Speaker, as the often did when she had some time to herself.

A small smile came over her face as she recalled his last visit. Unfortunately she hadn't been able to speak with him as much as she had wanted to; she was almost sure that was Ocheeva's doing. While she got on very well with the other woman, shortly after Antoinetta had first arrived in the Sanctuary, the Mistress had told Antoinetta that her constant mooning over Lucien was not appropriate, and she needed to stop. Antoinetta had been sore about that for awhile, but after time passed she didn't hold it against Ocheeva. It had become apparent that both Teinaava and Ocheeva thought of Lucien as a sort of father-figure, and Antoinetta left it at that.

However, there were those feelings of jealousy that would surface when she thought of why Lucien had pulled her aside to speak with her privately. He'd asked her to make sure Felicienne was adjusting alright. Apparently it didn't matter that the girl was a rank ahead of Antoinetta; it was obvious she was doing fine.

Although, as Antoinetta thought about it, she did find it odd that despite Lucien's gentility towards Felicienne, she seemed almost frigid towards him. Never to the point of rudeness…in fact, the girl was nearly always unfailingly polite. It was almost scary how polite she could be.

Taking Felicienne's behavior at face value, Antoinetta would have thought that Felicienne didn't like Lucien at all; she oft came across as though she tolerated his company as a necessary evil. And for awhile, Antoinetta had believed that was truly how the girl felt…Until she paid more attention to Felicienne while their Speaker was in their home. She often caught the younger woman surreptitiously glancing at the older man, and for obvious reasons, that raised Antoinetta's hackles like nothing else could have.

And _then_ of course she'd feel badly for being angry!

The blonde let out a huff of frustration; why should she feel guilty? She was entitled to her upset. And _what_ was taking the publican so long?

Just as she was about to question Dervera, the Dark Elf interrupted her musings.

"I'm sorry, but we only have four loaves of bread left…"

"That's fine, I'll just take those," Antoinetta snapped, with out really meaning too. She took the groceries from the woman and walked out, still feeling a bit agitated. Then she sighed; she was being ridiculous. There was no reason for her to be so upset.

She was being silly.

As she made her way back to the abandoned house, she decided to just drop the food off, and spend the rest of the day in town. She didn't have anywhere else to go and it would probably do her some good to have some time alone with her thoughts.

Walking to the living quarters, she began to sort and put away the food she'd purchased. As an afterthought, she remembered she needed to let Ocheeva know that she hadn't been able to buy everything on the list; however, Antoinetta had doubted they _really_ needed eight loaves of bread.

Just as she was about to knock on the Argonian's door, she heard Vicente's and Ocheeva's hushed voices carrying over. Biting her lip, it took Antoinetta only a second to decide whether or not to listen.

She pressed her ear closer to the door.

"Vicente, what are we going to do? They found another family member killed," Ocheeva whispered, worriedly.

"I don't know…do you know who it was?"

"It was Lucien's Silencer! The Black Hand is trying to keep it quiet, though. The 'official' story is she died during a contract."

Antoinetta felt a brief thrill go through her when she realized that meant the position for Silencer was free, before reprimanding herself. This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things. And surely Lucien must be quite upset; after all, she was one of the few people he worked with directly, other than Ocheeva.

At that moment, Antoinetta wanted to be his Silencer if only so she could kill the traitor who would put all of them, but especially her beloved Speaker, through this.

"We can't tell our brothers and sisters about this. If the Black Hand wants this quiet, there's most likely a good reason," Vicente calmly stated.

"Yes, I know…I'm just worried about…well…you know," the woman continued, although, she sounded a bit more worried than she had before.

"We need to stay on our guard, but…if we're ultimately found guilty by the Black Hand, I fear there's little we can do."

The Breton heard a chair scraping the floor and the sound of footsteps coming closer to the door. She felt a shiver of panic before she bolted away, as quietly as possible.

She didn't see Vicente opening the door and shaking his head with an amused expression on his face.

It was nice to know, that despite how precarious their situation may be at the moment, some things never change.

**

* * *

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A/N: So…that was quite a bit shorter than my other chapters…and it took longer to get out *cringe*. I feel so bad, I didn't mean to take this long with this one. I'm not happy with this chapter; I feel like it's a stupid filler. Of course, I think I say I hate just about every chapter. I'm so self-loathing. The next chapter is still going to be in mostly Antoinetta's perspective, for the sake of plot development. That, and the fact that Antoinetta is awesomeness. And then we'll move back to the main quest. As always, reviews are welcome, as well as constructive criticism. I'm always open to new ideas as well. Or even if you spot any flaws. I try to go over my work as much as I can, but I can only do so much on my own ^_^0. I'll try to make the next chapter longer. Hell, I'll probably wind up re-writing this chapter _. But later...when the story's finished.


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